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A SAILOR'S GARLAND

BY THE SAME AUTHOR

Sea Life in Nelson's Time
On the Spanish Main

A SAILOR'S GARLAND

SELECTED AND EDITED

JOHN MASEFIELD

SECOND EDITION

METHUEN & CO.

36 ESSEX STREET W.C.

LONDON

• • •

• • • » •

/•;>»/ Published . . October igo6
Second Edition . . /90iy

To C

52aKH:i

INTRODUCTORY

IT is curioas that a sea-going people such as the
English should have written so little poetry^ of a
high quality^ about the sea and its sailors until compara-
tively recent times. It might be said that until the end
of the eighteenth century our poets hardly saw the beauty
of the sea> though they felt its terror. We have poems,
such as Donne's ''Storm" and ''Calm/' expressing its
horrors and its desolation ; and later we have poems,
like Falconer's "Shipwreck/' expressing its force and
fury. These, in their way, are excellent, but they are not
exhaustive. They recognise and make significant the
grimmest aspects, and only those, of the sea, and of the
life of its followers. In this they are not singular. In
their loathing of the waters and of sea life th^y resemble
most early English sea poetry. Nearly all the English
poets, from Chaucer to Keats, have a dislike for, or a
dread of, the sea, and a hatred of sea-life and no high
opinion of sailors. " Chaucer," says someone, " dismisses
the sea with ashudder."

He accepts the Shipman as a roadmate, and describes
him with delicate art, but he describes him as a ruffian
who would rather break cargo than be sober, and to whom
the ginger that is hot in the mouth is the one thing worth
praying for of all the thingsin the world. Gower, his follower,
seldom leaves dry land ; though for a page or so he sings
gracefully about the Sirens. To the metrical romanticists

••
VII

viii INTRODUCTORY

the sea is a wilderness haunted by magical ships plying
from wonderful countries. To the Elizabethans (as
Shakespeare^ Markham^ Webster, and Heywood) it is a
place of tempest, or the scene of battle, or the haunt of
pirates. To the Jacobeans (as Browne, Fletcher, Dekker,
and Dabome) it is magical or tempestuous, or the haunt
of pirates. To Donne, as I have said, it was desolate and
horrible. To Sackville, the courtier, it was little save a
place of exile, where one could have wine and hard knocks
and a little quiet dice, but no ladies. To Falconer it was
dangerous and deadly.

None of these poets took delight in the contemplation of
the sea. Shakespeare, indeed, invites to merriment upon
the sands. Fletcher dreams about beautiful islands, peopled
by goddesses or princesses. Heywood tells us of sea captains
drinking wine at a tavern. The others '^ dismiss the sea with
a shudder." Nashe alone seems to have a word of praise for
her. To Nashe she is the original home of '^Solyman
Herring," "ourdappert Piemont Huldridc Herring," "the
puissant red herring, the golden Hesperides red herring, the
Meonian red herring, the rediherring of Red Herrings Hall."
To Nashe she is the " glassy fieldes of Thetis," the '' boil-
ing desert," full of '* careeringest billowes," over which go
the smacks of Yarmouth " and never bruise one bubble."
From Nashe alone does the sea get sympathetic treatment ;
and the sjmnpathy of Nashe is not worth a very great deal.
It was not until the nineteenth century that she came to
her own. Then Keats, Shelley Byron, Wordsworth, and
a school of landscape painters taught us to regard her, as
we regard her now, not as a hedge but as an outlet, not
as an enemy but as a manifestation.

Our sea heroes have received, on the whole, as scanty
recognition as their element. Until the beginning of the
nineteenth century the poets who honoured our sailors
were generally ballad-singers, greater in their zeal than in

INTRODUCTORY ix

their poetry. There are a few poems " by emineiit hands "
to eminent sailors^ such as Peele's address to Drake and
Hawkins^ the noble passage in Browne's Pastorals,
Drayton's poem to the Virginian Voyage, and MarveU's
poem to Blake ; but these are exceptions. As a rule our
great poets have left our great seamen unsung. We have
no great epic poem on the deeds of our sailors. The
ballad-singers have done their best for us, and ^^ the best
in this kind" are excellent ballads, such as '^ Andrew
Barton," and " The Winning of Cales," and the ballad of
Vernon taking Porto Bello. Our true sea epics are
written in prose rather than in verse. They are to be
found in the three folios of Hakluyt, in the four quartos
of Purchas, in Mandeville, in " Sir Francis Drake Reviv'd,"
in Sir Walter Raleigh's story of the Revenge, in the
books of Exquemeling, Shelvocke, Dampier, Walter, GK>k,
and Bumey. Of these epics, some three or four, not more,
appear to have taken firm hold upon the national
imagination.

Though the sea and the sea heroes have remained for
the most part unsung, the fault , is rather racial than
personal. Until the nineteenth century the English had
little sense of the majesty and grandeur of certain aspects
of nature ; and though they could fear and turn to use,
they could not glory in the splendour and beauty, of
breaking water. As a nation they have regarded their
great men in something the same way. They have broken
their hearts or obeyed them or accepted them blindly,
but they have never gloried in them, so that we need not
look, in books of early English poetry, for any rapture of
perception of the sea's beauty, nor rapture of praise of a
hero's noble effort. Our poetical strength is not in rapture
nor in panegyric, but in narrative and in characterisation,
more especially the characterisation of homely tjrpes. We
have had few great poems of the sea, and no great epic of

X INTRODUCTOBY

the sea heroes^ but we have had anmatchable sea char-
acters in oar poetry and in our prose fiction.

The sailor has been expressed for ns with perfect art
and perfect truths though he himself may complain of the
treatment he has received. The poets have not loved
him. They have not been attracted by him. They have
dismissed him, not with a shudder, but with a volley of
his own oaths or with a scrap of his own song, as a sort of
monster, a sort of sea-bear, a sort of a bawling rough
Commodore Trunnion. So far as I know th^re are not
half a dozen attractive naval characters, created and
celebrated in poetry or in prose fiction, prior to the early
nineteenth century. If a poet or a novelist desired a
common seaman or a sea captain in his art, he followed
the type of Chaucer's shipman or of Shakespeare's boat-
swain for the one, and that of Congreve's " young Ben "
or Smollett's Commodore, or Edmund Thompson's Captain
Mizen for the other* Heywood's sea captains, at the inn,
are perhaps the best we have prior to Miss Austen and
Captain Marryat, though our fiction makers have always
done well with pirates, as with Captain Ward and Captain
Roberts.

We cannot wonder that the poets have said so little
that is beautiful about the sailor. There is little to say
about him ; and that little, to a perceptive person, is very
readily apparent. The poetic, or sea-bear sailor, who
bawls and drinks and raps you out oaths and bangs upon
tables with his cudgel, is always to be found. One can
find hiQi on blue water ships at the present time; and
where he exists he is the best man in the vessel. He is
not fitted to command, but he is excellent before the
mast. He has hardly changed since Chaucer's time. One
could find a dozen like Chaucer's shipman in any dock in
Liverpool or New York or Sydney or San Francisco. He
no longer wears ''faldyng," or rough Irish frieze, but he

INTRODUCTORY xi

is never without a knife (as he will tell you himself in a
coarse proverb)^ and he is tanned by the wind and the
sun^ and he is a '^ good felawe/' a good comrade, a stand-
by in any sudden trouble. It is significant that Chaucer
notes the goodness of his felaweship directly he has drawn
his portrait He describes him riding ''as he couthe " (as
well, that is, as a sailor generally rides — something like a
sack), and he tells us of his clothes, and knife, and tan.
Directly the man has been defined for us, Chaucer points
out his chibf characteristic —

''And certainly he was a good felawe/'

that being the one supremely attractive thing in all sailors.
For the rest, he is a mere ruffian with a knavish trick of
broaching the wine casks in the hold ''while that the
chapman sleep." "Of nyce conscience," or tenderness,
or ordinary human mercy, he is careless. If he fights, and
wins, he sews his prisoners in a topsail and dumps them
overboard —

"By water he sent hem hoom to every land";

he "makes water-spaniels of them," as the Elizabethan
lord hinted to his successful pirate. But with all his
brutality and cunning he is a craftsman and a knowledge-
able fellow. He "knows his terms of hunting and the
sea card." He can reckon the tides, he knows the
currents, he is a good pilot of the Channel and its ports
of call, while he can stow a ship's hold like an artist.
With all this, he is weather-beaten and toughened by the
sea. He is hardy and " wise to undertake " ; not reckless,
but valiant and trusty. On the whole he is the most
perfect sailor in creative writing, though, when we get him
a little older and a little gentler, in Marryat's Swinburne,
we like him rather better.

xii INTRODUCTORY

Shakespeare's sailor^ Sebastian's ''bawling^ blasphemous^
incharitable dog/' is much such another. His lack of
charity places him alongside the shipman^ as it would
place him alongside many sailors of the present day. He
is without any " bowels of mercies/' but he is diligent in
his office^ and a faithful servant^ as long as there are
planks beneath him. He has a fine contempt for shore-
folk. To shore-folk he gives a rough tongue: ''Keep
your cabins/' "Out of our way, I say/' **What do you
here ? " etc. ; but his men are " my hearts " and " good
hearts," good fellows whom he cheers and heartens.
There are one or two sailors in Webster's comedies, and
the best of these is something more human than either
Shakespeare's sea-bear or than Smollett's sea-bulldog;
but in forming the present volume I have tried to avoid
quotations from plays. Such quotations can seldom be
detached effectually from their context, unless they are
purely descriptive. I must pass to the consideration of
those sea ballads which, after all, make up the bulk of
the sea poetry we possess.

The ballads are mostly ancient. One or two were
written as late as 1820; and one, a very merry ballad on
''Jack Robinson," may be as late as 1830. But most of
them, certainly all of those with any serious pretensions
to beauty, date from the sixteenth, seventeenth, and
eighteenth centuries. They may be classed, as I have
ventured to class them, in several broad divisions. They
may be ballads which illustrate naval history ; or ballads
of sea life, its dangers, wonders, and delights ; or ballads
of tragical disaster, or of poetical justice, such as " Brown
Robjm's- Confession " or " Captain Glen." Many of them,
and some of these are among the best, are love ballads,
either from the sailor to his lady or vice versd. As a rule
the lady's verses are to be preferred to the sailor's.

The earliest ballads which illustrate our sea history are

INTRODUCTORY xiH

the battle songs of Laurence Minot, who sings of the
Fight at Sluys, and of the destruction of some Spanish
pirates. After Minot there is a gap of rather more than
two centuries. The sea battles of the reign of Eliaabeth
inspire the next poems. There are man j Elisabethan sea
poems^ — ^too many, in fact^ to be mentioned here. I wiU
merely indicate Gervase Markham's poem on the last fight
of the Revenge, the curious poem on Drake's ^'Indies
Voyage/' by Thomas Greepe, who made one in that ad-
venture, and the excellent ballad of '^The Winning of
Cales." This last-mentioned ballad is one of the most
vigorous in the language. I know of no poem, with the
exceptions of Drayton's ^^ Agincourt/' and that older
parent poem of the same name, which moves to quite
such a triumphant music. It is a stirring piece of writing,
and it is so full of ^^ local colour," of little particular
details of the actual events of the sack, that one feels
that the writer was one of the pikemen, or " one of the
lusty bragging bowmen," or ^'a fire blood, a vantbrace"
with the soldiers and sailors engaged. The note

" In some places we did find, pyes baking left behind,
Meat at fire roasting, and folkes run away"

is admirable. A pie, or a roast joint, would be good pur-
chase indeed to any poor sailor, particularly to those who
had been living on the poor John and beer of the Eliza-
bethan lazareets. The remark about the materials of the
bonfire, a little lower down, is also realistic. I fancy that
the man who wrote the lines —

** With their fair wainscots, their presses and bedsteads.
Their joint-stools and tables a fire we made"

had lent a hand in the piling up of the gear before the
torch was set to it. The destruction of the Spanish
Armada inspired two or three ballads, but only one of

XIV INTRODUCTORY

them (that included in this volume) has any literary
merit. The defeat of the Armada seems to have been
less fruitful to the poets than the defeat of various pirates.
Among the best of the sea-battle ballads are those de-
scribing the overcoming of Sir Andrew Barton^ a Scottish
knight who scoured the Channel and intercepted English
merchant-ships during the reign of Henry viil Sir
Andrew was not^ in the strict sense^ a pirate^ as his
quarrel was with the Portuguese^ but he stopped so many
English traders in his search for Portuguese goods that
it became necessary '' to reason with him." He has in-
spired many ballads^ but this old sixteenth-century ballad
is by far the most stirring of them. Sometimes^ as in the
versions of the ballad which are still familiar to English
country folk, he figures as Henry, or Sir Henry, Martyn,
one of three Scottish brothers who cast dice, or " kevels,"
to decide which of them should turn pirate to support the
others. The ancient ballad gives a very curious picture
of a sea fight. The actual fighting was perhaps a little
more determined, and at closer range ; but still, in read-
ing the ballad, one creates a fine image of the battle, the
ships lying near together, in a good deal of smoke from
fire pots and the like, while the archers, in the little
gilded tops, keep shooting at the officers. Apart from its
historical and pictorial worth, the ballad is manly and
grand. There is nobility in the rover s cry —

" ' Fight on, my men/ Sir Andrew sayes,
'A little Tme hurt, but yett not slaine;
r/e but lye downe a$td bleede a while^
And then I'le rise and fight agayne."

Sir Andrew is never less than a hero. He has style ; he
is no '^ gentleman of fortune" like Bonnet or Roberts.
He dies like a king, and his dead face wears such a
nobleness that his very enemies lament him.

INTRODUCTORY xv

More popular than Sir Andrew was a later pirate, whose
name for many years was terrible to the English. He
inspired a poetical play, two chap-books, a nunber of
ballads, and one knows not how many Royal Proclama-
tions. This was John Ward, a Kentish fisherman, who,
after a short service aboard the Taous Whelp man-of-war,
turned pirate, with a crew of drunken mates, and at last
turned Turk and settled down at Tunis. He became
head of a s(»rt of colony of pirates, with whom he roved
the Mediterranean, to the destruction of trade. He
pillaged many English and Venetian ships, and amassed
great wealth. In the height of his prosperity he took
for partner one Dansker or Dansekar, a Dutchman, with
whom he afterwards quarrelled. Dansekar eventually
obtained a pardon from Henri iv. of France, and passed
his old age in the service of the Duke of Guise. Ward
retired in time ''to make his peace with God." When
his nerve began to fail he built himself a marble palace
among the Tunis orange gardens, where he lived royally,
'' more like a prince than a pirate," till he died of old age.
William Lithgow supped with him there, and seems to
have enjoyed his supper.

The ballads about Ward are not historical. They de-
scribe a wonderful battle between a king's ship, the
Rainbow, and Ward's cruiser. They give the fortunes of
the fight to Ward, but the glory to the Bmnbow, or to
a ''damsel," a "gallant damsel," a "damsel of fitme "
who handled the king's ship when her captain was hurt.
There was a ship called the Rainborv then in the navy,
but she never fought with Ward, nor did any royal ship,
so far as we can learn, unless it were the Lton's Whelp
(Ward's old ship), which King James sent to the Mediter-
ranean to suppress piracy. It is probable that the
ballads contain some germ of truth. Perhaps some
merchantman named the Rainbow escaped from a running

xvi INTRODUCTORY

fight Mdth Ward^ and perhaps her captain, or some man
aboard her, made the ballad m the glory of his heart
And perhaps some lover, ¥dth an heroical lady, imagined
the circumstances of the ^' damsel of fame."

Sir Francis Drake's achievements on the Spanish main
near Venta Cruz in 1572 were celebrated, some seventy
years later, in an opera by Sir William D^venant. He
was not neglected by his contemporaries, as has been
stated too frequently, for in addition to Peele's send-off
he is hymned by Charles Fitz-Geffery and by his follower
Thomas Greepe. Robert Blake, the Admiral of the
Parliament, was honoured during his life, by Andrew
Marvell, in a fine poem. The seventeenth century is
rich in sea poems ; and with these two " copies of verses "
we may bracket Heywood's poem on '^The Sovereign of
the Seas," Browne's splendid fragment on the decay of
sea adventure, and a number of rousing ballads. After
the Restoration we have Sackville's ^' To all you Ladies,"
and a few love ballads of the ^^ Come all ye " kind, and
a drinking song which means business.

The eighteenth century gives us several interesting
poems. We have one very fine ballad on the death of
Admiral Benbow, and a bragging strophe in honour of
Admiral Vernon. " The Taking of Porto Bello " (for the
sixth or seventh time in our national history) caused the
nation to lose its wits. The ballad in this collection
preserves one little mite of the general enthusiasm.
Those who collect old china will know how frequently
the mugs and bowls and plates of 1740 and thereabouts
are decorated with Vernon's face, or with pictures of his
ships. The triumphant, not to say braggart, note of the
ballad (which is a good ballad) may be compared with
another note, another tune in the same orchestra, in the
ballad of « Hosier's Ghost."

The eighteenth century was a piratical century, as well

INTRODUCrrORY xvii

as a century of great naval achievement and discomifiture.
We have a fragment on Captain Kidd, or Kyd^ a pirate
who made a great stir^ not so much by his piracies as by
the respectability of the society in which he moved^ and
the greatness of the names with which his was coupled
at the time of his triaL The fragment may still be heard
at sea. It is sung to the very excellent tune of Sami^l
Hall.

" My name is Captain Kidd,

Captain Kidd.
My name is Captain Kidd,

And wickedly I did;
God's laws I did forbid,

As I sailed.

My topsails they did shake

As I sailed.
My topsails they did shake

As I sailed.
My topsails they did shake,

And the merchants they did quake.
For many did I take

As I sailed."

The ruffian ^' Blackbeard " is also celebrated in a ballad ;
but Roberts, a more distinguished pirate, remains unsung,
though he has been movingly chronicled. The buccaneers
of an earlier generation receive sentimental poetical
tributes to this day. During their lives they received little
hcmour, and deserved rather less than they received.

The great French wars of the late eighteenth and early
nineteenth centuries inspired a mass of verse, mostly
execrable, from which one may gather a few good ballads.
Captain Marryat's hearty '^ Port Admiral " and '^ the Cap-
tain stood on the Carronade " are the best of them ; and
the mawkish nonsense of the Dibdins and their kind, the
b

xviii INTRODUCTORY

worst. Prince Hoare's '' Arethusa " is an admirable ballad,
not perfect in its form by any means, but full of spirit —

*' On deck five hundred men did dance.
The stoutest they could find in France.
We with two hundred did advance
On board of the Areikusa,"

There is also a rousing though vainglorious ballad on some
of the British naval victories under Jervis, Duncan, and
Nelson. It goes -to the tune of "The Roast Beef of Old
England." To one ynth a voice like a gale of wind it may
be confidently recommended. Nelson receives a number
of memorial verses, some of them of great dignity ; but his
victories roused little music save that of drums for many
years after his final triumph. One of the very best of the
sea ballads of this period is that called " Spanish Ladies,"
a poem in which some unknown sailor describes his voyage
home, and the picking up of the various headlands, the
Dodman, Ram Head, the Start, etc. etc., as the ship comes
leisurely up Channel towards the Downs. Rather later
we have the excellent ditty of ''Jack Robinson," by
Thomas Hudson, a poem in which the ancient man-of-
wars man, with his grog and his pigtail, takes his final
leave of us.

Of the ballads which illustrate life at sea, none are quite
so good as the earliest. The poem of the pilgrims, sailing
from "Sandwych or Winchelsee," to some French port,
from which they could tramp to Compostella, is as vivid
and as vigorous as a poem could well be. One can hardly
read it without imaging the ship, some tub of a dromond,
as she goes butting through the Channel, with her foresail
dark with sprays as high as the yard, and her deck like
Rachel mourning for her children, and her cabins like woe
unutterable. It makes one a little squeamish even to read
it. There are the groans and the misery and the loud

INTRODUCTORY xix

talking at the bows, and the wire-hum of the wind in the
rigging, and the ^' O tally on/' " O-y-ho," of the sailors
crying out ; and groans and more groans, and misery, and
then the mockery of the call to dinner. But the poem
does not bring one very far. It is good of its kind, but
there are better kinds. There are the magical and terrible
ballads, such as "The Selchie," "The Demon Lover,"
" Brown Robyn's Confession," and others, which show us
other aspects of the sea. These ballads are among the
finest in the language. No one could have written a
poem like " The Selchie " (with its suggestion of uncanny
prescience in the human, inhuman creature) who had not
brooded long by the seas, and gone agazing into the water
after immortal and terrible things, such as people the
green pools. ^' Brown Robyn's Confession " is one of many
such. The tale of Jonah is one of the eternal tales. It
appears in the folklore of most lands, and I can well
believe that, if a, ship were to meet with head-winds for
several months, in the present year, her sailors would
speculate unpleasantly, among themselves, as to the cause
of it. A good instance of the Jonah ballad is " Captain
Glen." This ballad is an example of the terrible fo'c'sle
ballad, which the old sailors sometimes sing when they
are cheerfuL It is not good poetry, but I know no poem
which has so deep an effect, when sung as the sailors sing
it, in a steady, dear, slightly changing tone, which brings
out, as the chorus in a tragedy, with ever-increasing
presage, the line

**As we went to New Barbary."

The dangers and miseries of life at sea have been sung by
many sailors, and I have given ballads enough, I hope, to
back my statement. Of the joys of life at sea it does not
become a sailor to sing. Such joys as the sea gives are
rather those of hope and unrest. The joy that one finds

XX INTBODUCTOHY

here and there in sea ballads is joy that the voyage
is over, or will soon be over, ¥rith honour, profit,
or safety to the sailor; or joy that the woman he
loves is still alive. It is in his love ballads that the
sailor shows himself most joyous. The virtue he praises
most in women is constancy, for that is the virtue he is
likeliest to appreciate. Women are invariably constant to
him, perhaps because they have so much temptation to be
otherwise. The love tragedies, such as they are which
darken this section of my anthology are tragedies due, as
all such tragedies are due, not to the women but to the
men, in their weakness or their strength.

1 have said that one of the joys the sea gives is the joy
of unrest. This joy has been expressed in poetry during
the last three generations, so perfectly that I have no
need to indicate particular names. The glory and the
beauty of the water have been hjrmned in glorious and
lovely verse. I wish to express my gratitude to those
living poets who have allowed me to quote their poems in
that section of this anthology which treats of the beauty
and wonder of the sea. I am confident that when the
poetry of our time is reckoned up it will be said that one
of its chief triumphs is that it has proclaimed the majesty
and glory of the dominion of water. It is unnecessary for
me to speak of poems like/^The Forsaken Merman" ; but
before closing this essay I should like to point out the
extreme beauty of some of the modem sea poems in this
volume. Our early poets have told us of the sea's terrors,
and our early ballad singers have told us of our sea
victories. It has been the task of modem poets, Mr.
JPlnyon^ Mr. Bridges, Mr. Kipling, Mr. Newbolt, and Mr.
D. C. Scott, to tell us of the jn^^gigal attrafitioQ of the sea,
and to set before us, in ringing and strenuous verses, the
nobility of those who have made the seas our heritage.

JOHN MASEFIELD.

OMISSIONS

I REORET extremely that I have been unable to include
any poem by Mr. Swinburne. The reasons which forbid
that inclusion also force me to omit the two splendid
poems '^The Revenge^ a Ballad of the Fleet/' and the
"Voyage of Maeldune/' by Alfred Lord Tennyson,
Another lamentable^ but unfortunately necessary^ omis-
sion is that of any poem by Mr. A. F. Brady^ an Australian
poet, whose ''Ways of Many Waters" contain the best
poems yet written about the merchant sailor and the
man-of-war's man.

If in the preparation of this book I have omitted any
noble poem, through my own negligence or ignorance, I
am sorry ; but

'' Fortune it will take its place, let a man do all he can.'*

I faave done what I could, with the means at my disposal.
A prose '' Sailor's Garland " is now in preparation, as a
complementary volume to the present collection.

XXI

NOTE

I WISH to thank the following poets and publishers for
their kindness in granting me permission to avail myself of
cop3rright material: — Mr. and Mrs. Charles Ashbee^ for
their rendering of " Ich stand auf hohen Berge " (Song
Book of the Guild of Handicnift, Essex House Press) ; Mr.
Laurence Binyon^ for ^' John Winter" {London Visions, Elkin
Mathews) ; Mr. Robert Bridges^ for " A Passer-By " (Shorter
Poems, Daniel^ Oxford) ; the Rev. Father John Gray, for
^^ Wings in the Dark" and "The "Flying Fish" (Silver-
points (John Lane), and No. 4 of The Dial); Messrs.
Macmillan, for the late Charles Kingsley's ballad "The
Last Buccaneer"; Mr. R. E. M^Gowan, for "A Young
Mans Fancy"; Mr. T. Sturge Moore, for " The Rower's
Chant" (The Vinedresser, Unicorn Press); Messrs. G. P.
Putnam's Sons, for the three poems of Walt Whitman;
Mr. Henry Newbolt, for "Messmates" and "Drake's
Drum" (The Island Race and Admirals All, Elkin
Mathews). Mr. Duncan Campbell Scott, for " The Piper
of Aril," "At Les fiboulements" (Labour and the Angel,
Boston, Copeland & Day); and for "Off Riviere du
Loup" (The Magic House, Methuen & Co.); Messrs,
Smith Elder, for the use of the lyric from Paracelsus
(collected edition of Robert Browning's Works); Mr.
A. T. Quiller-Couch, for "Victoria" and "Dolor Oogo"
(Poems and Ballads, Methuen); and Messrs. Chatto &
Windus, for " Christmas at Sea " (from Ballads), by the
late R. L. Stevenson.

I also wish to thank the editor and proprietors of
the Manchester Guardian for allowing me to reprint
an article on "Chanties" from their issue of l6th
August 1905 ; and Mr. Rudyard Kipling and Messrs.
Appleton & Sons, for the use of the poem "The Last
Chanty" (Seven Seas, Methuen & Co., London, and D.
Appleton & Sons, New York).

XXll

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Introduction

Old Sailors

PAGB

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS

Walt Whitman

Song for all Seas, all Ships

John Keats

Sonnet .

Robert Bridges

A Passer By

John Gray

Wings in the Dark

Duncan Campbell Scott
At Les l&boulements

Thomas L. Beddoes
To Sea .

T. Sturge Moore

Rower's Chant .

Laurence Binyon
John Winter

Duncan Campbell Scott
Off Riviere du Loup

Robert Browning

Song from Paracelsus

Anonymous

Outwards

Alfred Lord Tennyson
The Lotos Eaters .

German Folk-Song, adapted by Charles and Janet
Ashbeb

"Ich stand auf hohen Berge"

• ••

xxm

4
5

5
6

8 *
II

14
H

XXIV

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Walt Whitman

After the Sea-Ship

PAGB
17

John Gray

The Flying-Fish

Henry Newbolt
Messmates

William Shakkspkarb

From Ki^ Richard III.

Walt Whitman

The World below the Brine .

William Shakespeare

Song from The Tempest

Duncan Campbell Scott
The Piper of Aril

Lord Byron

From Childe HaroltPs Pilgrimage

H. W, Longfellow

Lost Youth . . . .

Rudyard Kipling

The Last Chanty

POEMS ILLUSTRATING OUR SEA HISTORY

Laurence Minot

The Sea-Fight at Sluys, 24th June 1340
Winchelsea Fight, or the Humbling of the Spaniards.

Anonymous

Sir Andrew Barton

Charles Fitz-Geffery

The English Captains .

Sir William Davenant

Sir Francis Drake Reviv'd

Charles FiTz-Geffery

On Sir Francis Drake .

Anonymous

Sir Richard Grenville's Farewell

Thomas Greepe

The Taking of Cartagena

William Warner

From Albion's England

The Defeat of the Spanish Armada

37
40

58
60

64
67

TABLE OF CONTENTS xxv

GlORGB PSBLB ri'Ca

A Farewell to the inott ftmoat Oenerkli, Sii Joho

Norris and Sir Frauds Drake, Knigbts . . 69

Anonvhous

The Sailor's Onely DeliEbt . , -71

Anonymous

The WinniDg of Cale» . ■ 7^

Gbrvasb Markham

End of The Last Fight of the Kevenge . 76

Hbnrv Newbolt

Drake's Drum . . . . . .83

ChARLSS Fm-GBPFBBY

The Last Vojage of Sir Frauds Drake end Sir John

Hawkins . . . > 83

WiLUAH WaRNBR

From Albion's England . . ■ 8?

MtCHABI. Dbavton

To the Virginian Voyage -87

Ahohyhous

The Honour of Bristol . . . -89

WlLLIAH BROWNB

From Britannia's Pastorals . '93

Thomas Hbvwood

An Epigram upon His Majesty's Gre»t Ship {Th*
Severei^ of the Stai) lymg in the Dock at
Woolwidi ...... 94

Anoktmous

The Funoos Fight at Malaga . . . .96

Andrbw Marvbll

On the Victory obtained by Admiral Blake over the

Spaniards in the Bay of Santa Cnu . . 99

Giorob Harrison

The EpiUpb Acroitick on Robert Blake . • 104

AMONTUODS

The "
AHONVMOtIS

The
Anonymous

Anonymous

The

Anonymous

XXVI

TABLE OP CONTENTS

Anonymous

Brave News from Admiral Vernon

PAGB

114

Anonymous

Bold Sawyer . . . . .116

David Garrick

Heart of Oak . . . .118

William Cowper

On the Loss of the Royal George . . .119

Anonymous

Admiral Rodney's Triumph on the 12th of April . 120

Anonymous

A New Song on Parker the Del^;ate, Head of the

Mutiny at Sheemess . . . .121

Prince Hoarb

The Arethusa . . . . .123

Anonymous

A New Song on Lord Nelson's Victory at Copenhagen 124

Anonymous

The Brave Tars of Old England . . ,126

Anonymous

Tra&Igar ..... ^ 129

Anonymous

The Battle of Trafalgar . . . .131

A. T. QUILLER-COUCH

Victoria, 22nd June 1893 . . . • I33

POEMS OF SAILORS AND OF LIFE AT SEA

Geoffrey Chaucer

The Shipman ...... 136

Anonymous

The Sailing of the Pilgrims from Sandwich towards

St. James of Compostella . . . • I37

Anonymous

Sir Patrick Spens . . . . • ^39

William Shakespeare

From The Tempest . . . . .142

Anonymous

The Saylor's Song . . . . • 14S

Anonymous

A Ballad of Sea Fardingers, describing Evil Fortune 145

TABLE OF CONTENTS

xxvu

Anonymous

Sir Walter Raleigh Sailing in the Lowlands

Anonymous

The Gaulden Vemitee .

Anonymous

The Golden Vanity (a modem version)

John Donne

The Storm

William Falconer

From Tlu Shipwreck .

John Donne

The Calm

Martyn Parker

Neptune's Raging Fury

Anonymous

The Distressed Sailor's Garland

Captain Jack Mitford, R.N.

A Gale of Wind (from Adventures of Johnny Newcome)

Anonymous

The Benjamin's Lamentations .

Anonymous

The Leadsman's Song .

R. L. Stevenson

Christmas at Sea

Anonymous

The Whale ....

Anonymous

Spanish Ladies ....

Anonymous

The Greenwich Pensioner •

Anonymous

Comfortable Song on the Poor Sailors

Anonymous

Sailors' Delight ....

Frederick Marryat

Port Admiral . . .

The Captain stood on the Carronade .

Anonymous

The Press-Grang

Anonymous

Captain Bover ...

rxoa

147

149

151
I Si

154

160

163
169

173

175
176

178

180

181

182

183

183
186

187
188

xxvHi TABLE OF CONTENTS

Anonymous 'aoe

The Flash Frigate . . . . .188

Lord Byron

The Man-o'-War (Childe HarekPs fHlgrimage) . 189

T. Hudson

Jack Robinson ...... 190

Captain Jack Mitford, R.N.

The Fight (from Adventures of Johnny Newcome) . 192

THE STORY OF JONAH. POEMS OF MERMAIDS
AND OF THE SEA SPIRITS

The Stoiy of Jonah ..... 198

Captain Glen ...... 199

Brown Robe's Confession .... 202

William Gnsmond's Downfall .... 203

S. T. Colbridgb

The Ancient Mariner ..... 205

Matthew Arnold

The Forsaken Merman ..... 225

A. T. QUILLER-COUCH

Dolor Oogo ...... 229

Anonymous

The Merman Rosmer . . . . .231

Ho ! for Lubberland ..... 235

Gborgk Chapman

Ulysses and the Sirens ..... 237

John Gower

The Story of Ulysses ..... 238

Anonymous

The Silkie of Sule Skerrie .... 239

The Daemon Lover ..... 240

The Mermaid . . . . . . 242

POEMS OF LOVE AND THE AFFECTIONS

The Lass of Lochroyan .... 243

The Seaman's Happy Return .... 249
Constance and Anthony .... 253

Thomas Nashb and Christopher Marlowe

From The Tragedie of Dido . . . .258

TABLE OP CONTENTS xxix

William Shakbspbarb fags

Stephano's Song ..... 359

Anonymous

The Lowlands of Holland .... 259

The Maydens of London .... 260

The Gallant Seaman's Resolution 262

The Gallant Seanum's Return .... 266

A Sailor ...... 267

Charles Sackvillb

To all you Ladies ..... 268

Anonymous

The Seaman's Compass . . . .271

R. E. McGowan

A Young Man's Fancy. .... 275

Anonymous

The Fair Maid's Choice .... 276

The Sailor Laddie ..... 278

Captain Thomson

Song to Mary ...... 280

Anonymous

The North Country Collier . . .281

The Bold Privateer ..... 282

Charlbs Dibdin

Tom Bowling ...... 283

POEMS OF PIRATES AND SMUGGLERS

Anonymous

John Dory
Henry Martyn .

Dansekar the Dutchman .... 286

Captain Ward and the
As we were a-sailing
The Salcombe Seaman's
Teach the Rover

Charlbs Kingslby

The Lost Buccaneer

Lord Macaulay

The Last Buccaneer

Anonymous

The Smuggler .

284
28s

Kaitibow 289

. 292

Flaunt . . 293

. . 294

297

. 298

• 299

XXX

TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHANTIES

Editor's Notb

Lowlands

Storm Along

Whiskey Johnny

John Francois .

Blow the Man down

Roll the Cotton down

Reuben Ranzo .

Roll and go

Roll him over .

Hanging Johnny

Sally Brown

Poor Old Joe .

Tommy's gone .

A long Time Ago

Blow, Bullies, Blow

The Rio Grande

Sebastopol

The Banks of the Sacramento

The Maid of Amsterdam

Hand over Hand

Haul away, O .

Haul the Bowline

Runaway Chorus

Paddy Doyle .

Leave her, Johnny

PAGE

305
306
307
308
309
3"
312
313
314
315
315
316

317

318
320

321

323

324

325
326

327
327

INDEX OF AUTHORS

Arnold, Matthew, 225. [

Ashbee, Charles and Janet, 16.

Beddoes, T. L., 7.
.• Binyon, Laurence, 8.
Bridges, Robert, 5.
Browne, William, 93.
Browning, Robert, 12.
Byron, Lord, 31, 189.

Chapman, George, 237.
Chaucer, Geoffrey, 136.
Coleridge, S. T., 205.
Cowper, William, 119.

Davenant, Sir William, 56.
Dibdin, Charles, 283.
Donne, John, 152, 159.
Drayton, Michael, 87.

Falconer, ^lliam, 154.
Fitz-Gefiery, Charles, 51, 58,

83.

Garrick, David, 118.
Gower, John, 238.
Gray, John, 5, 18.
Greepe, Thomas, 61.

Harrison, Geoxge, 104.
Heywood, T., 94.
Hoare, Prince, 123.
Hudson, T., 190.

Keats, John, 4.
Kingsley, Charles, 297.
Kipling, Rudyard, 34.

Longfellow, H. W., 33.

Macaulay, Lord, 298.
McGowan, R. E., 275.
Markham, Gervase, 76.
Marlowe, Christopher, 258.
Marryat, Frederick, 183, 186.
Marvell, Andrew, 99.
Minot, I^urence, 37, 40.
Mitford, Jack, 169, 192.
Moore, T. Sturge, 7.

Nashe, T., 258.
Newbolt, Heniy, 24, 82.

Parker» Martyn, 160.
Peele, George, 69.

Quiller-Couch, A. T., 133, 229.

Sackville, Charles, 268.
Scott, Duncan C, 6, 11, 26.
Shakespeare, William, 25, 26, 259.
Stevenson, R. L., 176.

Tennyson, Lord, 14.
Thomson, Captain, 280.

Warner, William, 64, 87.
Whitman, Walt, 3, 17, 25.

XXXI

• • • •

•

• •

c »

A SAILORS S GARLAND

OLD SAILORS

Of old Sailors^ the song you would hear^

And we old Fiddlers have forgot who they were^

But all we remember^ shall come to your ear.

That were old Sailors of the Queen's

And the Queen's old Sailors.

With Sir Francis Drake, that was the next man
To the old brave Portugal! (who first it began)
To sail through the Straits of Magellan

Like an old Sailor of the Queen's

And the Queen's old Sailor.

That put the proud Spanish Armada to wrack.
And travelled all o'er the old World, and came back
In his old ship, laden with gold and old sack

Like an old Sailor of the Queen's

And the Queen's old Sailor.

With a silver jugful of jewels and the Spanish King's bed.
And banners flying in his rigging all white and red.
And a drum to beat a bravery when he lay dead

Like an old Sailor of the Queen's

And the Queen's old Sailor.

2: ; : • A SAILOR'S GARLAND

With a courtly Candish^ that seconded him^

And taught his old sails the same passage to swim^

And dighted them, therefore, with cloth of gold trim

Like an old Sailor of the Queen's

And the Queen s old Sailor.

With an old brave Raleigh, who twice and agen
Sailed over most part of the salt seas, and then
Wrote a brave old history with his old pen

Like an old Sailor of the Queen's

And the Queen's old Sailor.

With an old George Anson, who beat round the Horn,
With his ships falling to pieces and his sails all torn.
And made Spanish dollars as common as seed com

Like an old Sailor of the Queen's

And the Queen's old Sailor.

With many an old sailor, on many an old ship.

Who hoisted out many a barrel onto many an old slip.

And went below to his hammock or to a can of flip

Like an old Sailor of the Queen's

And the Queen's old Sailor.

With many an old brave captain we shall never know.
Who walked the decks under the colours when the winds

did blow.
And made the planks red with his blood before they
carried him below

Like an old Sailor of the Queen's
And the Queen's old Sailor.

And in Davy Jones's Taverns may they sit at ease.
With their old tarpaulin aprons over their old knees.
Singing their old sea ballads and yarning of the seas

Like good old Sailors of the Queen's

And the Queen's old Sailors.

(Adapted)

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS

SONG FOR ALL SEAS, ALL SHIPS

To-day a rude brief recitative,

Of ships sailing the seas, each with its special flag or ship-
signal.

Of unnamed heroes in the ships — of waves spreading
and spreading far as the eye can reach.

Of dashing spray, and the winds piping and blowing.

And out of these a chant for the sailors of all nations,

Fitful, like a surge.

Of sea-captains young or old, and the mates, and of all

intrepid sailors.
Of the few, very choice, taciturn, whom fate can never

surprise nor death dismay,
Pick'd sparingly without noise by thee old ocean, chosen

by thee.
Thou sea that pickest and cuUest the race in time, and

unitest nations,
Suckled by thee, old husky nurse, embodying thee.
Indomitable, untamed as thee.

(Ever the heroes on water or on land, by ones or twos

appearing.
Ever the stock preserv'd and never lost, though rare,

enough for seed preserv'd.)

A SAILORS GARLAND

II.

Flaunt out O sea your separate flags of nations !

Flaunt out visible as ever the various ship-signals !

But do you reserve especially for yourself and for the soul

of man one flag above all the rest^
A spiritual woven signal for all nations^ emblem of man

elate above deaths
Token of all brave captains and all intrepid sailors and

mates^
And all that went down doing their duty.
Reminiscent of them, twined from all intrepid captains

young or old,
A pennant universal, subtly waving all time, o'er all brave

sailors.
All seas, all ships.

Walt Whitman

SONNET ON THE SEA

It keeps eternal whisperings around

Desolate shores, and with its mighty swell
Gluts twice ten thousand caverns, till the spell

Of Hecate leaves them their old shadowy sound.

Often 'tis in such gentle temper found.
That scarcely will the very smallest shell
Be mov'd for days from whence it sometime fell.

When last the winds of heaven were unbound.

Oh ye ! who have your eye-balls vex'd and tir'd.
Feast them upon the wideness of the Sea ;

Oh ye ! whose ears sae dinn'd with uproar rad£.
Or fed too much with clo3ing melody, —

Sit ye near some old cavern's mouth, and brood

Until ye start, as if the sea-nymphs quir'd !

John Keatb

WINCS IN THE DARE 5

A PASSER BY

Whither^ O splendid ship, thy white sails crowdmg,
Leaning across the bosom of the urgent West,
That fearest nor sea rising, nor sky clouding.
Whither away, fair rover, and what thy quest ?
Ah, soon, when Winter has all our vales opprest.
When skies are cold and misty, and hail is hurling^
Wilt thou glide on the blue Pacific, or rest
In a summer haven asleep, thy white sails furling ?

I there before thee, in the country that well thou knowest.

Already arrived am inhaling the odorous air :

I watch thee enter unerringly where thou goest.

And' anchor queen of the strange shipping there.

Thy sails for awnings spread, thy masts bare :

Nor is aught from the foaming reef to the snow-capped,

grandest
Peak, that is over the feathery palms more fair
Than thou, so upright, so stately, and still thou standest.

And yet, O splendid ship, unbailed and nameless,

I know not if, aiming a fancy, I rightly divine

That thou hast a purpose joyful, a courage blameless.

Thy port assured in a happier land than mine.

But for all I have given thee, beauty enough is thine.

As thou, aslant with trim tackle and shrouding.

From the proud nostril curve of a prow's line

In the offing scatterest foam, thy white sails crowding.

Robert Bridges

WINGS IN THE DARE

Forth into the warm darkness faring wide —
More silent momently the silent quay —
Towards where the riuaks of boats rock to the tide.
Muffling their plaintive gurgling jealoiisly.

A SAILORS GARLAND

With gentle nodding of her gracious snout^
One greets her master till he step aboard :
She flaps her ¥migs impatient to get out ;
She runs to plunder^ straining every cord.

Full-winged and stealthy like a bird of prey^
All tense the muscles of her seemly flanks ;
She the coy creature that the idle day
Sees idly riding in the idle ranks.

Backward and forth^ over the chosen ground^
Like a young horse^ she drags the heavy trawl
Content ; or speeds her rapturous course unbound.
And passing fishers through the darkness call,

Deep greeting, in the jargon of the sea.

Haul upon haul, flounders and soles and dabs.

And phosphorescent animalculse.

Sand, sea drift, weeds, thousands of worthless crabs.

Darkling upon the mud the fishes grope.
Cautious to stir, staring with jewel eyes ;
Dogs of the sea, the savage congers mope.
Winding their sulky march meander-wise.

Suddenly all is light and life and flight.
Upon the sandy bottom, agate strewn.
The fishers mumble, waiting till the night
Urge on the clouds, and cover up the moon.

John Gray

AT LES 6B0ULEMENTS

A glamour on the phantom shore
Of golden pallid green,

Gray purple in the flats before,
The river streams between.

TO SEA

From hazy hamlets^ one by one^,.

Beyond the island-bars^
The casements in the setting sun

Flash back in violet stars.

A brig is straining out for sea^
To Norway or to France she goes^

And all her happy flags are firee^
Her sails are flushed with rose.

Duncan Campbell Scott

TO SEA

To sea^ to sea ! The calm is o'er ;
The wanton water leaps in sport.
And rattles down the pebbly shore ;
The dolphin wheeb, the sea-cows snort.
And unseen mermaids pearly song
Comes bubbling up the weeds among.

Fling broad the sail, dip deep the oar :
To sea, to sea ! The calm is o'er.

To sea, to sea ! Our white-wing'd bark
Shall billowing cleave its wat'ry way.
And with its shadow, fleet and dark.
Break the caved Triton's azure day,
Like mountain eagle soaring Ught
O'er antelopes on Alpine height.

The anchor heaves, the ship s¥migs free.
Our sails swell full : to sea, to sea !

T. L. Beddoes

ROWERS CHANT

Row till the land dip 'neath
The sea from view.

Row till a land peep up,
A home for you.

8 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Row till the mast sing songs

Welcome and sweet.
Row till the waves outstripped.

Give up dead beat.

Row tOl the sea-nymphs rise

To ask you why
Rowing you tarry not

To hear them sigh.

Row till the stars grow bright

Like certain eyes.
Row till the noon be high

As hopes you prize.

Row till you harbour in

All longing's port.
Row till you find all things

For which you sought.

T. Sturo£ Moorb

JOHN WINTER

What ails John Winter, that so oft

Silent he sits apart ?
The neighbours cast their looks on him ;

But deep he hides his heart.

In Deptford streets the houses small

Huddle forlorn together.
Whether the wind blow or be still,

'Tis soiled and sorry weather.

But over these dim r€K>fs arise

Tall masts of ocean ships.
Whenever John Winter looked on them,

The salt blew on his lips.

JOHN WINTEB

He cannot psee tbe street about.
But they stand bef<Hre his eyes 1

The moie he shuns thaon^ the mare pioud
And beantifol they rise.

He turns his head, but in Ihs ear
The steady Tiade-Winds run^

And in his eye the endless waves
Ride on into the sun.

His little ehild at evening said,

" Now tell us, dad, a tale
Of naked men that dbioot with bows.

Tell of the spouting whale ! "

He told old tales, his eyes were bright,

His wife looked up to see.
And smiled on him : but in the midst

He ended suddenly.

He bade his boys good-night, and Idssed

And held them to his breast
They wondered and were still, to feel

Tlieir lips so fondly pressed.

He sat absorbed in silent gl<x>m.

His wife lifted her head
From sewings and stole up to him,

" What ails you, John ? " she said.

He e^ke no word. A siloit tear

Fell softly down her oheek.
She knelt beside him, and his hand

Was on her forehead meek.

But even as his tender touch

Her dumb distress consoled.
The mighty waves danced in his eyes

And through the silence rolled.

lo A SAILOR'S GARLAND

There fell a soft Noyember night.
Restless with gusts that shook

The chimneys, and beat wildly down
The flames in the chimney nook.

John Winter lay beside his wife,
'Twas past the mid of night.

Softly he rose, and in dead hush
Stood stealthily upright.

Softly he came where slept his bojrs.
And kissed them in their bed ;

One stretched his arms out in his sleep
At that he turned his head.

And now he bent above his wife.

She slept a sleep serene.
Her patient soul was in the peace

Of breathing slumber seen.

At last, he kissed one aching kiss,
Then shrank again in dread,

And from his own home guiltily
And like a thief he fled.

But now with darkness and the wind
He breaths a breath more free.

And walks with calmer steps, like one
Who goes with destiny.

And see, before him the great masts
Tower with all their spars

Black on the dimness, soaring bold
Among the mazy stars.

In stormy rushings through the air
Wild scents the darkness filled.

And with a fierce forgetfulness
His drinking nostril thrilled.

OFF RIVrfeBE DU LOUP n

He hasted with quick feet^ he hugged

The wildness to his breast^
As one who goes the only way

To set his heart at rest.

When morning glimmered^ a great ship

Dropt gliding down the shore.
John Winter coiled the anchor ropes

Among his mates once more.

Laurence Binyon

OFF RIVlfeRE DU LOUP

O SHIP incoming from the sea
With all your cloudy tower of sail^
Dashing the water to the lee^
And leaning grandly to the gale.

The sunset pageant in the west
Has filled your canvas curves with rose^
And jewelled every toppling crest
That crashes into silver snows !

You know the joy of coming home.
After long leagues to France or Spain
You feel the clear Canadian foam
And the gulf water heave again.

Between these sombre purple hills
That cool the sunset's molten bars.
You will go on as the wind wills.
Beneath the river's roof of stars.

You will toss onward toward the lights
That spangle over the lonely pier.
By hamlets glimmering on the heights.
By level islands black and clear.

13 A SAILOR'S OAKLAND

Yen win go on beyond tke tide,
Thioogh biiflunmg pkiiis of olhre oedge,
Thioogli paler shadows li^t oad wide.
The lapids piled along the ledge.

At evening off some reedj ba J
Yoa will swing slowly on yoor diain.
And catch the scent of dewy hay^
Soft blowing from the pleasant phdn.

Duncan Campbell Scott

SONG FROM PARACELSUS

Over the sea our galleys went.
With cleaving prows in order brave^
To a speeding wind and a bounding wave —

A gallant armament :
Each bark built out of a forest-tree

Left leafy and rough as first it grew^
And nailed all over the gaping sides.
Within and without, with black bull-hides.
Seethed in fat and suppled in flame.
To bear the playful biUow's game :
So each good ship was rude to see.
Rude and bare to the outward view.

But each upbore a stately tent ;
Where cedar pales in scented row
Kept out the flakes of the dancing brine :
And an awning drooped the mast below.
In fold pn fold of the purple fine.
That neither noontide nor starshine
Nor moonlight cold which maketh mad

Might pierce the regal tenement.
When the sun dawned, cii, gay and glad
We set the sail and pHed the oar :
But when the night-wind Uew like breath.

SONG FROM PARACELSUS 13

For joy of one day's voyage move.
We sang together on the wide sea^
Like men at peace on a peaceful shore ;
Eaeh sail was loosed to the wind so free.
Each helm made sure hy the twilight star.
And in a sleep as calm as death.
We, the voyagers ^m afar.

Lay stretched al<»ig, each weary crew
In a circle round its wondrous tent.
Whence gleamed soft light and curled rich scent.

And with light and perfume music too ;
So the stars wheeled round, and the darkness past.
And at mom we started heside the mast.
And still eaeh ship was sailing fast !

Now, one mom, land appeared ! — a speck
Dim trembling betwixt sea and sky ;
*' Avoid it,'* cried our pilot, " check

The shout, restrain the eager eye ! "
But the heaving sea was black behind
For many a night and many a day.
And land, though but a rock, drew nigh ;
So we brake the cedar-pales away.
Let the purple awning flap in the wind.

And a statue bright was in every deck !
We shouted, every man of us.
And steered right into the harbour thus.
With p<mip and paean glorious.

A hundred shapes of lucid stone !

All day we built its shrine for each,
A shrine of rock for every one —
Nor paused till in the westering sun

We sat together on the beach
To sing, because our task was done.
When lo ! what shouts and merry songs !
What laughter all the distance stirs !
A loaded raft with happy throngs
Of gentle islanders !

14 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

" Our isles are just at hand^" they cried ;

^* Like cloudlets faint in even sleeping^
Our temple-gates are opened wide^

Our olive-groves thick shade are keeping
For these majestic forms " — ^they cried.
Oh^ then we awoke with sudden start
From our deep dream^ and knew^ too late^
How bare the rock^ how desolate,
Which had received our precious freight ;

Yet we called out — " Depart !
Our gifbs^ once given^ must here abide.

Our work is done ; we have no heart
To mar our work/' we cried.

Robert Rrownino

OUTWARDS

Over the dim blue rim of the sea

Comes the pale gold disc of the moon ;

The topsails slat as we pass the quay^
And the yard goes up with a tune.

We are outward bound for the west to-night^
And the yard goes up with a cheer ;

And the bells will ring in the town to-night^
And the men in the inns will hear.

And the carts will creak in the lanes to-night^
And the girls will dance to the band ;

But we shall be out with the sails to fist^
And the topsail-sheets to hand.

THE LOTUS-EATERS

** CouRAOB ! " he said^ and pointed toward the land^
**This mounting wave will roll us shoreward soon."
In the afternoon they came unto a land
In which it seemed always afternoon.

THE LOTUS-EATERS 15

All round the coast the languid air did swoon^
Breathing like one that hath a weary dream.
Full-faced above the valley stood the moon ;
And like a downward smoke^ the slender stream
Along the cliff to fall and pause and fall did seem.

A land of streams ! some> like a downward smoke^

Slow-dropping veils of thinnest lawn, did go ;

And some thro' wavering lights and shadows broke^

Rolling a slumbrous sheet of foam below.

They saw the gleaming river seaward flow

From the inner land : far off^ three mountain-tops^

Three silent pinnacles of aged snow^

Stood sunset-flush'd : and^ dew'd with showery drops^

Up-domb the shadowy pine above the woven copse.

The charmed sunset linger'd low adown

In the red West : thro' mountain clefts the dale

Was seen far inland^ and the yellow down

Border'd with palm^ and many a winding vale

And meadow^ set with slender galingale ;

A land where all things always seem'd the same !

And round about the keel with faces pale^

Dark faces pale against that rosy flame^

The mild-eyed melancholy Lotus-eaters came.

Branches they bore of that enchanted stem^
Laden with flower and fruit, whereof they gave
To each, but whoso did receive of them.
And taste, to him the gushing of the wave
Far £ajt away did seem to mourn and rave
On alien shores ; and if his fellow spake.
His voice was thin, as voices from the grave ;
And deep-asleep he seem'd, yet all awake.
And music in his ears his beating heart did make.

They sat them down upon the yellow sand,
Between the sun and moon upon the shore ;
And sweet it was to dream of Fatherland,
Of child, and wife, and slave ; but evermore

»>

1 6 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Most wearj seem'd the sea^ weary the oax,
Weaiy the wandering fields of barren foam.
Then some one said^ ^^ We will return no m.ore
And all at once they sang^ ^' Our island home
Is far beyond the wave ; we will no longer roam.'

Alfred^ Lord Tennyson

" ICH STAND AUF HOHEN BERGE *
Air — German Folk Sonq

I stood on a mighty mountain

Looking over the sea ;
And there I spied a ship at anchor^
There I spied a ship riding at anchor^

And she beckoned to me.

Then she signalled with white flags^

With flags green and blue.
And the captain sent me out a little boat.
Sent me out a little leaping jolly boat.

With the pick of his ship's crew.

We tossed in the yellow sunset.

We climbed the ship's side ;
And the captain paced about the quarter-deck.
Yes, the captain paced the windy quarter-deck

As he watched for the tide.

She'd a cargo of crimson roses

And anemones blue ;
And a dozen ton of shining beryl stones.
Yes, a dozen ton of sea-green beryl stones

For to make her ride true.

" Say, captain, where's she bound for

With her cargo of flowers ? "
" Oh, we're saihng out into the West, my lad.
Sailing out into the wondrous West, my lad,

For a thousand good hours.

AFTER THE SEA-SHIP i;

" We arc bound for the Isle of Fancy,

Through moonlight^ through foam ;
And who knows if we shall land our beryl stones.
Land our hundred bags of shining beryl stones.

Or our brave ship bring home."

^' If her masts now should be broken,

Her compass be lost ;
If the captain should misread his reckoning.
Through the western stars misread his reckoning

Ere the green sea be crossed ? "

" Nay, tear up the gallant anchor.

Let all her sails run ;
And we'U cheer the merry lads of Devonshire,
(Yes, we're all of us stout lads of Devonshire !)

And away towards the. Sun ! "

Charles and Janet Ashbee

AFTER THE SEA-SHIP

After the sea-ship, after the whistling winds,

After the white-grey sails taut to their spars and ropes.

Below, a myriad myriad waves hastening, lifting up their

necks,
Tending in ceaseless flow toward the track of the ship.
Waves of the ocean bubbling and gurgling, blithely pr3ring.
Waves, undulating waves, liquid, uneven, emulous waves.
Toward that whirling current, laughing and buoyant,

with curves.
Where the great vessel saiUng and tacking displaced the

surface.
Larger and smaller waves in the spread of the ocean

yeamfully flowing.
The wake of the sea-ship after she passes, flashing and

froUcsome under the sun,
A motley procession with many a fleck of foam and many

fragments.
Following the stately and rapid ship, in the wake following.

Walt Whitman

1 8 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

THE FLYING FISH

Myself am Hang^ the buccaneer^
Whom children love and brave men fear,
Master of courage, come what come.
Master of craft and called Sea-scum.

Student of wisdom and waterways,
Course of moons and the birth of days :
To him in whose heart all things be,
I bring my story from the sea.

The same am I as that sleek Hang,

Whose pattens along the stone quay clang

In sailing time : whose pile is high

In the mart when the merchants come to buy ;

Am he who cumbers his lowly hulk
With refuse bundles of feeble bulk ;
Turns sailor s eyes to the weather skies ;
Bows low to the master of merchandise ;

Who hoists his sail with the broken slats :
Whose lean crew is scarcely food for his rats ;
Am he who creeps from tower top ken
And utmost vision of all men.

Ah then ! am he who changeth line,
And no man knoweth that course of mine ;
Am he, sir Sage, who sails to the sea
Where an island and other wonders be.

After six days we sight the coast ;
And my palace top ; (should the saOor boast)
Sail rattles down ; and then we ride.
Mean junk and proud, by my palace side.

THE FLYING PISH 19

For there lives a junk in that ancient sea^
Where the gardens of Hang^ and his palace be ;
O my fair junk ! which once aboard
The pirate knows no living lord.

j
Its walls are painted water-green

Like the green sea's self^ both shade and sheen^

Lest any mark it. (The pirate's trade

Is to hover swiftly and make afiraid.)

Its sails are fashioned of lithe bamboo.
All painted blue as the sky is blue,
So it be not seen till the prey be nigh.
(Hang loves not that the same should fly.)

In midst of the first a painted sun
Gleams gold like the celestial yon.
In midst of the second a tender moon,
That a lover might kiss his flute and swoon,

Or maid touch lute at sight of the third.
Pictured with all the crystal herd.
So the silly ships are mazed at sight
Of night by day and day by night ;

For wind and water a goodlier junk
Than all that have ever sailed or sunk.
Which junk was theirs : none fiercer than
My fathers since the f&il of man.

So cotton rags lays Hang aside ;
Lays bare the sailor s gristly hide ;
He wraps his body in vests of silk.
Ilk is as beautiful as ilk.

Then Hang puts on his ancient mail.
Silver and black, and scale on scale.
Like dragons, which his grandsire bore
Before hbn^ and his grandsire before.

20 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

He binds his legs with buskins grim^
Tawny and gold for the pride of him.
His feet are bare^ like his who quelled
The dragon ; his feet are feet of eld.

His head is brave with a lac-wrought casque^
The donning which is a heavy task ;
Its lappets are spiked like a dolphin's fin ;
'Tis strapped with straps of tiger skin.

The passions of his fathers whelm
The heart of Hang when he wears their helm.
Then Hang grows wrinkled betwixt his eyes^
He frowns like a devil^ devilwise.

His eyeballs starts his mark is red
Like to the last judge of the dead ;
His nostrils gape ; his mouth is the mouth
Of the fish that swims in the torrid south.

His beard the pirate Hang lets flow.
He lays his hand on his father's bow :
Wherewith a cunning man of strength
Might shoot a shaft the vessel's length.

I have another of crimson lac^

Of a great man's height^ so the silk be slack.

The bolt departs with a brazen clang,

'Tis drawn with the foot, and the foot of Hang.

Such house and harness become me when
I wait upon laden merchantmen ;
'Twixt tears and the sea, 'twixt brine and brine,
They shudder at sight of me and mine.

Of the birds that fly in the farthest sea,
Six are more strange than others be ;
Under its tumble, among the fish.
Six are a marvel passing wish.

THE FLYING FISH 21

First is a hawk^ exceeding great ;
He dwelleth alone^ he hath no mate ;
His neck is bound with a yellow ring ;
On his breast is the crest of an ancient king.

The second bird is exceeding pale^
From little head to scanty tail ;
She is striped with black on either wing^ ;
Which is rose-lined like a costly thing. '

Though limall the bulk of the brilliant thirds
Of all blue birds 'tis the bluest bird^
They fly in bands ; and seen by day^
By the side of them the sky is grey.

I mind the fifths I forget the fourth^
Save that it comes from east and north ;
The fifth is an orange white-billed duck ;
He diveth for fish like the god of Luck ;

He hath never a foot on which to standi
For water yields and he loves not land.
This is the end of many words^
Save one^ concerning marvellous birds.

The great-faced dolphin is first of fish^
He is devil-eyed and devilish.
Of all the fishes is he most brave ;
He walks the sea like an angry wave.

The second^ the fishes call their lord.
Himself a bow^ his face is a sword ;
His sword is armed with a hundred teeth ;
Fifty above and fifty beneath.

The third hath a scarlet suit of mail^
The fourth is nought but a feeble tail.
The fifth is a whip with a hundred strands ;
And every arm hath a hundred hands.

22 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

The last stnmge fish is the last strange bird.

Of him no sage hath even heard ;

He roams the sea in a gleaming horde^

In fear of the dolphin and him of the sword.

He leaps from the sea with a silken swish.
He beats the air does the flying fish.
His eyes are round with excess of fright^
Bright as the drops of his pinions' fiight.

In sea and sky he hath no peace^

For the ^ve strange fish are his enemies.

And the ^ve strange fowls keep watch for him.

They know him well by his crystal gleam.

Oftwhiles, sir Sage, on my jmik's white deck.
Have I seen this fish-bird come to wreck ;
Oftwhiles (fair deck) 'twixt bow and poop.
Have I seen that piteous sky fish stoop.

Scaled bird, how his snout and gills dilate.
All quivering and roseate !
He pants in crystal and mother-of-pearl.
While his body shrinks and his pinions furl.

His beauty passes like bubbles blown ;
The white bright bird is a fish of stone.
The bird so fair, for its putrid sake,
Is flung to the dogs in the junk's white wake.

II.

Have thought, son Pirate, some such must be
As the beast thou namest in yonder sea.
Else, bring me a symbol from nature's gear
Of aspiration bom of fear.

Hast been, my son, to the doctor's booth
Some day when Hang had a qualm to soothe ?
Hast noted the visible various sign
Of each flask's virtue, son of mine ?

THE FLYING FISH 23

Rude picture of insect seldom found.
Of plant that thrives in marshy ground.
Goblin of east wind, fog or draught.
Sign of the phial's potent craft ?

'Tis even thus where the drug is sense,
Where wisdom is more than frankincense.
Wit's grain than a pound of pounded bones ;
Where knowledge is redder than ruby stones.

Hast thou marked how poppies are sign of sip ?
How bravery's mantle is tiger skin ?
How earth is dark and dumb with care ?
How song is the speech of all the air ?

(Thou hast ? Thou'rt wise in thy sailor kind.
Not every fruit is known by its rind.)
I've a truth distilled and strained and casked ;
Thou hast brought the symbol it sorely asked.

A tree is the sign most whole and sure

Of aspiration plain and pure.

Of the variation one must wend

In search of the sign to the world's wide end.

Thy fish is the fairest of all that be
In the throbbing heart of yonder sea.
He says in his iridescent heart ;
I am gorgeous-eyed and a fish apart.

My back has the secret of every shell.
The Hang of fishes knows me well ;
Scales of my breast are softer still,
The ugly fishes devise my ill.

He prays the maker of water-things
Not for a sword, but cricket's wings ;
Not to be one of the sons of air ;
To be rid of the water is all his prayer.

24 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

All his hope is a fear-whipped whim.

All directions are one to him.

There are seekers of wisdom no less absurd.

Son Hang, than thy fish that would be a bird.

John Gray

MESSMATES

He gave us all a good-bye cheerily

At the first dawn of day ;
We dropped him down the side full drearily

When the light died away.
It's a dead dark watch that he's a-keeping there.
And a long, long night that lags a-creeping there.
Where the Trades and the tides roll over him

And the great ships go by.

He's there alone with green seas rocking him

For a thousand miles round ;
He's there alone with dumb things mocking him.

And we're homeward bound.
It's a long, lone watch that he's a-keeping there,
And a dead cold night that lags a-creeping there.
While the months and the years roll over him

And the great ships go by.

I wonder if the tramps come near enough —

As they thrash to and fro,
And the battleship's bells ring clear enough

To be heard down below ;
If through all the lone watch that he's a-keeping there.
And the long, cold night that lags a-creeping there
The voices of the sailor-men shall comfort him

When the great ships go by.

Henry Nbwbolt

THE WORLD BELOW THE BRINE 25

FROM KING RICHARD IIL

I SAW a thousand fearful wrecks ;
A thousand men that fishes gnaw'd upon ;
Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl.
Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels.
All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea.
Some lay in dead men's skulls ; and, in those holes
Where eyes did once inhabit, these were crept
(As 'twere in scorn of eyes) reflecting gems,
That woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep.
And mock'd the dead bones that were scatter'd by.

William Shakespeare

THE WORLD BELOW THE BRINE

The world below the brine.

Forests at the bottom of the sea, the branches and leaves.

Sea-lettuce, vast lichens, strange flowers and seeds, the

thick tangles, openings and pink turf.
Different colours, pale grey and green, purple, white and

gold, the play of light through the water.
Dumb swimmers there among the rocks, coral, gluten,

grass, rushes, and the aliment of the swimmers.
Sluggish existences grazing there suspended, or slowly

crawling close to the bottom.
The sperm-whale at the surface blowing air and spray, or

(Usporting with his flukes.
The leaiden-eyed shark, the walrus, the turtle, the hairy

sea-leopard, and the sting-ray.
Passions there, wars, pursuits, tribes, sight in those ocean-
depths, breathing that thick-breathing air, as so

many do.
The change thence to the sight here, and to the subtle air

breathed by beings like us who walk this sphere.
The change onward from ours to that of beings who walk

other spheres.

Walt Whitman

26 A SAILORS GARLAND

SONG FROM THE TEMPEST

Full fathom five thy father lies ;
Of his bones are coral made ;
These are pearls that were his eyes :
Nothing of him that doth fade.
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell ;

Ding-dong.
Hark ! now I hear them — ding-dong, bell.

William Shakespeare

THE PIPER OF ARLL

There was in Aril a little cove
Where the salt wind came cool and free :
A foamy beach that one would love.
If he were longing for the sea.

A brook hung sparkling on the hill,
The hill swept far to ring the bay ;
The bay was faithful, wild or still.
To the heart of the ocean far away.

There were three pines above the comb
That, when the sun flared and went down,
Grew like three warriors reiving home
The plunder of a burning town.

A piper lived within the grove.

Tending the pasture of his sheep ;

His heart was swayed with faithful love.

From the springs of God's ocean clear and deep.

And there a ship one evening stood.
Where ship had never stood before ;
A pennon bickered red as blood,
An^illgel glimmered at the prore.

THE PIPER OF AHLL 27

About the coming on of dew^
The sails burned rosy^ and the spars^
Were gold^ and all the tackle grew
Alive with ruby-hearted stars.

The piper heard an outland tongue^
With music in the cadenced fall ;
And when the fairy lights were hung^
The sailors gathered one and all.

And leaning on the gunwales dark^
Crusted with shells and dashed with foam^
With all the dreaming hills to hark.
They sang their Jionging songs of home.

When the sweet airs had fled away,
The piper, with a gentle breath.
Moulded a tranquil melody
Of lonely love and longed for death.

When the fair sound began to lull.
From out the fire flies and the dew,
A silence held the shadowy hull.
Until the eerie song was through.

Then from the dark and dreary deck.
An alien song began to thrill ;
It mingled with the drununing beck.
And stirred the braird upon the hill.

Beneath the stars each sent to each
A message tender, till at last
The piper slept upon the beach.
The sailors slumbered round the mast.

Still as a dream till nearly dawn.
The ship was bosomed on the tide ;
The streamlet murmuring on and on.
Bore the sweet water to her side. /-^^

28 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Then shaking out her lawny sails^
Forth on the misty sea she crept ;
She left the dawning of the dales^
Yet in his cloak the piper slept.

And when he woke he saw the ship.
Limned black against the crimson sun ;
Then from the disc he saw her slip,
A wraith of shadow — she was gone.

He threw his mantle on the beach.

He went apart like one distraught,

His lips were moved — ^his desperate speech

Stormed his inviolable thought.

He broke his human-throated reed.
And threw it in the idle rill ;
But when its passion had its meed.
He found it in the eddy still.

He mended well the patient flue.
Again he tried its various stops ;
The closures answered right and true.
And starting out in piercing drops,

A melody began to drip
That mingled with a ghostly thrill
The vision-spirit of the ship.
The secret of his broken will

Beneath the pines he piped and swayed.
Master of passion and of power ;
He was his soul, and what he played.
Immortal for a happy hour.

He, singing into nature's heart.
Guiding his will by the world's will.
With deep, unconscious, childlike art
Had sung his soul out and was still.

THE PIPER OF ARLL 29

And then at evaning came the bark
That stirred his dreaming heart's desire ;
It burned slow lights along the dark
That died in glooms of crimson fire.

The sailors lamiched a sombre boatj
And bent with music at the oars ;
The rhythm throbbing every throat.
And lapsing round the liquid shores.

Was that true tune the piper sent.
Unto the wave-worn mariners,
When with the beck and ripple blent
He heard that outland song of theirs.

Silent they rowed him, dip and drip.
The oars beat out an exequy.
They laid him down within the ship.
They loosed a rocket to the sky.

It broke in many a crimson sphere
That grew to gold and floated far.
And left the sudden shore-line clear.
With one slow-changing, drifting star.

Then out they shook the magic sails.
That charmed the wind in other seas,
From where the west line pearls and pales.
They waited for a ruffling breeze.

But in the world there was no stir.
The cordage slacked with never a creak.
They heaxd the flame begin to purr
Within the lantern at the peak.

They could not cry, they could not move.
They felt the lure from the charmed sea ;
They could not think of home or love
Or any pleasant land to be.

30 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

They felt the vessel dip and tiim^
And settle down from list to list ;
They saw the sea-plain heave and swim
As gently as a rising mist.

And down so slowly^ down and down^
Rivet by rivet^ plank by plank ;
A little flood of ocean flown
Across the deck^ she sank and sank.

From knee to breast the water wore,
It crept and crept ere they were ware.
Gone was the angel at the prore>
They fdt the water float their hair.

They saw the salt plain spark and shine.
They threw their faces to the sky ; .
Beneath a deepening film of brine
They saw the star-flash blur and die.

She sank and sank by yard and mast,
Sank down the shimmering gradual dark ;
A little drooping pennon last
Showed like the black fin of a shark.

And down she sank, till, keeled in sand.
She rested safely balanced true.
With all her upward gazing band.
The piper and the dreaming crew.

And there, unmarked of any chart,
In unrecorded deeps they lie,
Empearled within the purple heart
Of the great sea for aye and aye.

Their eyes are ruby in the green
Long shaft of sun that spreads and rays.
And upward with a wizard sheen
A fan of sea-light leaps and plays.

THE SEA 31

Tendrils of or and azure ereep^
And globes of amber light are rolled.
And in the gloaming of the deep
Their eyes are starry pits of gold.

And sometimes in the liquid night
The hull is changed, a solid gem.
That glows with a soft stony light,
The lost prince of a diadem.

And at the keel a vine is quick,

That spreads its bines and works and weaves

O'er all the timbers, veining thick

A plenitude of silver leaves.

Duncan Campbell Scott

THE SEA

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods.
There is a rapture on the lonely shore.
There is society where none intrudes.
By the deep Sea, and music in its roar :
I love not man the less, but Nature more.
From these our interviews, in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before.
To mingle with the universe, and feel
What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal.

Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean — roll !
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ;
Man marks the earth with ruin — his control
Stops with the shore ; — upon the watery plain
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain
A shadow of man's ravage, save his own.
When for a moment, like a drop of rain.
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan.
Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd and unknown.

32 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

His steps are not upon thy paths — ^thy fields
Are not a spoil for him — thou dost arise
And shake him from thee ; the vile strength he wields
For earth's destruction thou dost all despise^
Spuming him from thy bosom to the skies.
And send'st him, shivering in thy plajful spray.
And howling, to his Gods, where haply lies
His petty hope in some near port or haj.
And dashest him again to earth — there let him lay.

The armaments which thunderstrike the walls
Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake.
And monarchs tremble in their capitals.
The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make
Their clay creator the vain title take
Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war ;
These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake,
They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar
Alike the Armada's pride, or spoils of Trafalgar.

Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee-
Ass3rria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they ?
Thy waters wasted them while they were free.
And many a tyrant since : their shores obey
The stranger, slave or savage ; their decay
Has dried up realms to deserts : — not so thou.
Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' play —
Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow —
Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.

Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form
Glasses itself in tempests : in all time.
Calm or convulsed — in breeze, or gale, or storm.
Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime

LOST YOUTH 33

Dark-heaviiig ; — boundless^ endless^ and sublime —
The image of Eternity — the throne
Of the Invisible ; even from out thy slime
The monsters of the deep are made ; each zone
Obeys thee ; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.

And I have loved thee. Ocean ! and my joy
Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be
Borne, like thy bubbles, onward : from a boy
I wanton'd with thy breakers — ^they to me
Were a delight ; and if the freshening sea
Made them a terror — 'twas a pleasing fear,
For I was as it were a child of thee.
And trusted to thy billows far and near.
And laid my hand upon thy mane — as I do here.

Lord Byron
(Childe HaroltTs Pilgrimage)

LOST YOUTH

Often I think of the beautiful town

That is seated by the sea ;
Often in thought go up and down
The pleasant streets of that dear old town.
And my youth comes back to me, ^

And a verse of a Lapland song
Is haunting my memory still :
'' A boy's will is the wind's will
And the thoughts of youth are long, long
thoughts."

I can see the shadowy lines of its trees.

And catch in sudden gleams.
The sheen of the far-surrounding seas.
And islands that were the Hesperides

Of all my boyish dreams.

34 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

And the burden of that old song.
It murmurs and whispers still :
" A boy's will is the wind's will.
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I remember the black wharves and the slips

And the sea-tides tossing free ;
And the Spanish sailors with bearded lips
And the beauty and mystery of the ships
And the magic of the sea.

And the voice of that wayward song
Is singing and saying still :
*' A boy's will is the wind's will.
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

H. W. Longfellow

THE LAST CHANTY

''and there was no more sea"

Thus said the Lord in the vault above the Cherubim,
Calling to the Angels and the Souls in their degree :
'' Lo ! Earth has passed away
On the smoke of Judgment Day,
That Our word may be established shall We gather up the
sea?"

Loud sang the souls of the jolly, jolly mariners :
" Plague upon the hurricane that made us furl and flee !
But the war is done between us
In the deep the Lord hath seen us —
Our bones we'll leave the barracout and God may sink
the sea ! "

Then said the soul of Judas that betrayM Him :
*' Lord hast Thou forgotten Thy covenant with me ?

How once a year I go

To cool me on the floe ?
And Ye take my day of mercy if Ye take away the sea I "

fTHE LAST CHANTY 35

Then said the soul of the Angel of the Off-shore Wind :
(He that bits the thunder when the buU-moathed
breakers flee)

^^ I have watch and ward to keep
O'er thy wonders on the deep.
And Ye take mine honour from me if Ye take away the

sea.

Loud sang the souls of the jolly, jolly mariners :
'* Nay, but we were angry, and a hasty folk were we !
If we worked the ship together
Till she foundered in foul weather.
Are we babes that we should clamour for a vengeance on
the sea?"

Then said the souls of the slaves that men threw over-
board:
** Kennelled in the picaroon a weary band were we ;
But Thy arm was strong to save.
And it touched us on the wave.
And we drowsed the long tides idle till Thy Trumpets tore
the sea."

Then cried the soul of the stout Apostle Paul to God :
'* Once we frapped a ship, and she laboured woundily.
There were fourteen score of these,
A»d they blessed Thee on their knees.
When they learned Thy Grace and glory imder Malta by
the sea/"

»>

Loud sang the souls of the jolly, jolly mariners :
Plucking at their harps, and they plucked unhandily :
^^ Our thumbs are rough and tarred.
And the tune is something hard —
May we lift a Deapsea Chanty such as seamen use at sea?"

36 A SAILOR'S GARLAN|9

Then said the souls of the gentlemen advuuituren.
Fettered wrist to bar all for red iniquity : \
** Ho, we revel in our chains
O'er the sorrow that was Spain's
Heave or sink it, leave or drink it, we were masters of the
sea!"

Up spake the soul of a grey Gothavn 'speckshioner —
(He that led the flinching in the fleets of fair Dundee)
^^ Oh the ice-blink white and near.
And the bowhead breaching clear I
Will Ye whelm them all for wantonness that wallow in
the sea ? "

Loud sang the souls of the jolly, jolly mariners.
Crying : ^' Under Heaven, here is neither lead nor lee

Must we sing for evermore

On the windless, glassy floor ?
Take back your golden fiddles and we'll beat to open sea."

Then stooped the Lord, and He called the good sea up
to Him,
And 'stablished His borders unto all Eternity,
That such as have no pleasure
For to praise the Lord by measure,
They may enter into galleons and serve Him on the sea.

Sun, nnnd, and cloud shall fail not from the face of it,
Stinging, ringing spindrift, nor the fulmar flying free ;
And the ships shall go abroad
To the Glory of the Lord
Who heard the silly sailor-Jolk and gave them hack their sea,

RuDYARD Kipling {The Seven Seas)

POEMS ILLUSTRATING OUR
SEA HISTORY

THE SEA-FIGHT AT SLUYS

24rTH June 1340

Listen^ and the battle I shall begin^

Of Englishmen and Normans in the Swyn.

Minot with mouth had meant to make
True saws and sad for some men's sake.
The words of Sir Edward makes me to wake,
Would he salve us soon my sorrow should slake.
Were my sorrow slaked soon would I sing.
When God will Sir Edward shall us boot bring.

Sir Philip the Valois cast was in care ;
And said Sir Hugh Kyret to Flanders should fare.
And have Normans enough to leave on his lare,
All Flanders to bum and make it all bare ;

But unkind coward, woe was him there,

When he sailed in the Swyn it sowed him sair ;

Sore it them smarted that fared out of France ;

Englishmen learned them there a new dance.

The burgess(es) of Bruges were not to blame ;
I pray, Jesu, save them from sin and from shame.
For they were soon at the Sluys all by a name.
Where many of the Normans took mickle grame.

38 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

When Bruges and Ypres hereof heard tell^
They sent Edward to wit that was in Orwell ;
Then had he no liking longer to dwell.
He hasted him to the Swyn with sergeants snell,^
To meet with the Normans that false were and fell.
That had meant, if they might, all Flanders to quell.

King Edward unto sail full soon was dight.

With earls and barons and many a keen knight

They came before Blankbergh on St. John's night ;

That was to the Normans a full sorry sight.

Yet trumped they and danced with torches full bright,

In the wild waning were their hearts light.

Upon the mom after, if I sooth say,

A merry man. Sir Robert, out of Morlay,

At half ebb in the Swyn sought he the way ;

There taught men the Normans at buckler to play ;

Helped them no prayer that they might pray ;

The wretches are wonnen, their weapon is away.

The Earl of Northampton helped at that need.
And the wise man of words and worthy in weed,
Sir Walter the Maunay, God give him meed,
Was bold of body in battle to bede.^

The Duke of Lancaster was dight for to drive
With many a moody man that thought for to thrive,
Well and stalwartly stint he that strife ^
That few of the Normans left they alive.
Few left they alive but did them to leap.
Men may find by the flood a hundred on heap.

Sir William of Clinton was easy to know.
Many stout bachelors brought he in a row.
It seemed with their shooting that it did snow.
The most of the Normans brought they full low ;
Their boast was abated and their mickle pride.
For they might not flee, but there do they bide.

1 Sfull, actire, fiery. ^ Battle to bede^ to <)ffer battle.

* Stifit he tkat strife^ did he end ^t battle.

THE SEA-FIGHT AT SLUYS 39

The good £arl of Gloucester^ God make him glad.

Brought many bold men with bows full brade ;

To bicker with the Normans boldly they bade,

And in midst of the flood did them to wade.

To wade were those wretches cast in the brim.

The caitiffs come out of France to learn them to swim.

I praise John Badding as one of the best ;
Fair came he sailing out of the south-west.
To the proof of those Normans was he full prest,
Till he had fought his fill he had never rest.

John of Aile of the Sluys with a squadron full sheen
Was coming into Cagent,^ cantly ^ and keen ;
But soon was his trumping turned to teen ;
Of him had Sir Edward his will I ween.

The shipmen of England sailed full swith,^
That none of the Normans from them might skrith.^
Whoso knew well his craft there might it kith ^
Of all the good that they got gave they no tithe.

Two hundred and more ships on the sands
Had our Englishmen won with their hands ;
The cogs ^ of England were brought out of bands.
And also the Christopher ^ that in the stream stands ;
In that stound they stood, with streamers full still,
Till they wist full well Sir Edward's wilL

Sir Edward, our good king worthy in wall,^
Fought well on that flood, fair mot him fisiU ; *
As it is custom of king to comfort them all.
So thanked he goodly the great and the small.
He thanked them goodly, God give him meed.
Thus came our king in the Swyn till that good deed.

^ Cogent^ a village of Zeeland. ' Cantly, briskly, smartly.

' Swith, gaily, swiftly. * SkritA, escape, or crawl away.

• A'lM, make a show of, exhibit. • Co^, or cocks, ships of burthen.
' Christopher, a flagship captured by the English.

^ Worthy in wall, apparently a good fellow, a stout fighter, one
worth wailing or bewailing when killed.

* Fair mot him fally good luck to him.

40 A SAILORS GARLAND

This was the battle that fell in the Swyn^
Where many Normans made mickle din ;
Well were they armed up to the chin^
But God and Sir Edward gar'd their boast bHn ; ^
Thus blinned their boast^ as we well ken,
God assoil their souls, say all. Amen.

Laurence Minot

WINCHELSEA FIGHT, OR THE HUMBLING

OF THE SPANIARDS

How King Edward and his menie.
Met with the Spaniards in the sea.

I would not spare for to speak, wist I to speed.
Of wight men with weapons, and worthy in weed.
That now are driven to dale,^ and dead all their deed.
They sail in the sea — ground fishes to feed ;
Fell fishes they feed for all their great fare,^
It was in the waning that they came there.

They sailed forth in the Swyn in a summer's tide.
With trumps and tabors and mickle other pride ;
The word of those war-men walked fiill wide.
The goods that they robbed in hold gan they it hide ;
In hold have they hidden great wealths as I ween
Of gold and of silver, of scarlet and green.

When they sailed westward those wight men in war.
Their hurdis,* their anchors, hanged they on here : *
Wight men of the west nighM them near.
And gar'd them stumble in the snare, might they no ferr.^
Far might they not flit, but there must they fine,^
And that that before they reived then must they tine.*

' Blin, come to an end, cease. ' Driven to dale, driven to the grave.
' Their great fare, their boasts and brags.

* Hurdis, a war girdle, or pavesse, of coloured canvas, which pro-
tected the sailors of a warship as they rowed or hauled.

* On here, aloft.

* No ferr, so that they might go no farther.

^ Fine, come to an end. ^ Tine, lose.

SIR ANDREW BARTON 41

Boy with thy black beard ^ I rede that thou blin^
And soon set thee to shrive with sorrow of thy sin ;
If thou wert in England nought shouldst thou win^
Come thou more on that coast^ thy bale shall begin.
There kindles thy care^ keen men shall thee keep^
And do thee die on a day and dump in the deep.

Ye brought out of Bretayne ^ your custom with care.

Ye met with the merchants and made them full bare ;

It is good reason and right that ye evil misfare

When ye would^ in England^ learn of a new lare.

New lore shall ye learn. Sir Edward to lout : •

For when ye stood in your strength you were all too stout.

Laurence Minot

SIR ANDREW BARTON

THE FIRST PART

((

When Flora with her fragrant flowers

Bedeckt the earth so trim and gaye.
And Neptune with his daintye showers

Came to present the monthe of Maye ; "
King Henrye rode to take the ayre.

Over the river of Thames past hee ;
When eighty merchants of London came.

And downe they knelt upon their knee.

" O yee are welcome, rich merchants ;

Grood saylors, welcome unto mee."
They swore by the rood, they were saylors good.

But rich merch^ts they cold not bee :

^ Boy with thy black heard, '*a most notorious pirate," named
Barbenoire, who may have been in the Spanish ships destroyed by
" Sir Edward " in the battle here celebrated.

^ Out of Bretayne, the Spanish pirates had raided the Brittany
coasts.

» To lout, to salute.

43 A SAILORS GARLAND

ff To France nor Flanders dare 'we pass :
Nor Bordeaux voyage dare we fare ;
I And all for a rover Uiat lyes on the seas.
Who robbs ns of our merchant ware."

King Henrye frownd and turned hun rounde,

Aad swore by the Lord^ that was mickle of might,
'' I thought he had not beene in the world.

Durst have wrought England such unri^t"
The merchants sighed, and said, " Alas I "

And thus they did their answer frame,
" He is a proud Scott, that robbs on the seas.

And Sir Andrewe Barton is his name."

The king lookt over his left shoulder.

And an angrye look then looked hee :
'* Have I never a lorde in all my realme,

Will feitch yond tra3ix>r unto mee ? "
'^ Yea, that dare I," lord Howard sayes ;

" Yea, that dare I with heart and hand ;
If it please your grace to give me leave,

Myselfe wil be the only man."

" Thou art but yong," the kyng replyed :

" Yond Scott hath numbred manye a yeare."
" Trust me, my liege, He make him quail.

Or before my prince I will never appeare."
" Then bowemen and gunners thou shalt have,

And chuse them over my realme so free ;
Besides good mariners, and shipp-boyes.

To guide the great shipp on the sea."

The first man, that lord Howard chose,

Was the ablest gunner in all the realm,
Thoughe he was threescore yeeres and ten ;

Good Peter Simon was his name.
" Peter," sais hee, " I must to the sea.

To bring home a traytor live or dead :
Before all others I have chosen thee.

Of a hundred gunners to be the head."

SIR ANDREW BARTON 43

'' If J0U9 my l<»d^ have chosen mee

Of A hiindTed gunners to be the head.
Then hang me up on your maine-mast tree.

If I miss my marke one shilling bread." ^
My lord then chose a boweman rare,

Whose active hands had gained fame.
In Yorkshire was this gentleman bcNne,

And William Horseley was his name.

'' Horseley/' sayd he, " I must with speede

Go seeke a traytor on the sea,
And now of a hundred boweman brave

To be the head I have chosen thee."
" If you/' quoth hee, *' have chosen mee

Of a huiMlred bowemen to be the head.
On your main-mast He hanged bee.

If I miss twelvescore one penny bread."

With pikes and gunnes, and bowemen bold.

This noble Howard is gone to the sea ;
With a valyant heart and a pleasant cheare,

Out at Thames mouth sayled he.
And days he scant had sayled three.

Upon the '^ voyage " he tooke in hand.
But there he mett with a noble shipp.

And stoutely made itt stay and stand.

" Thou must tell me/' lord Howard said,

^' Now who thou art, and what's thy name ;
And shewe me where thy dwelling is :

And whither bound, and whence thou came.
" My name is Henry Hunt," quoth hee

With a heavye heart, and a carefull mind ;
'^ I and my shipp doe both belong

To the Newcastle, that stands upon Tyne."

^ An old English word for breadth.

44 A SAILORS GARLAND

'' Hast thou not heard^ nowe^ Hoirye Hunt^

As thou hast sayled by daye and by nighty
Of a Scottish rover on the seas ;

Men call him sir Andrew Barton^ knight ?
Then ever he sighed^ and sayd " Alas ! '*

With a grieved mind^ and well away 1
" But over-well I knowe that wight^

I was his prisoner yesterday.

'^ As I was sayling uppon the sea^

A Burdeaux voyage for to fare ;
To his hack-horde he clasped me^

And robd me of all my merchant ware :
And mickle debts^ God wot^ I owe^

And every man will have his owne ;
And I am nowe to London bounde^

Of our gracious king to beg a boone.'

»»

" That shall not need," lord Howard sais ;

" Lett me but once that robber see.
For every penny tane thee froe

It shall be doubled shillings three."
" Nowe God forefend," the merchant said,

" That you shold seek so far amisse I
God keepe you out of that traitor's hands !

Full litle ye wott what a man hee is.

'^ Hee is brasse within, and Steele without.

With beames on his topcastle stronge ;
And eighteen pieces of ordinance

He carries on each side along :
And he hath a pinnace deerlye dight,

St. Andrew's cross that is his guide ;
His pinnace beareth ninescore men.

And fifteen cannons on each side.

SIR ANDREW BARTON 45

"Were ye twentye shippes, and he but one ;

I sweare by kirke^ and bower^ and hall ;
He wold overcome them everye one.

If once his beames they do downe fall." ^
" This is cold comfort," sals my lord,

" To Wellcome a stranger thus to the sea :
Yet He bring him and his shipp to shore.

Or to Scottland hee shall carrye mee."

" Then a noble gunner you must have.

And he must aim well with his ee,
And sinke his pinnace into the sea.

Or else hee never orecome will bee :
And if you chance his shipp to borde.

This counsel I must give withall.
Let no man to his topcastle goe

To strive to let his beams downe fall.

'^ And seven pieces of ordinance,

I pray your honour lend to mee.
On each side of my shipp along.

And I will lead you on the sea.
A glasse He sett, that may be scene.

Whether you sayle by day or night ;
And to-morrowe, I sweare, by nine of the clocke

You shall meet with Sir Andrewe Barton knight."

^ It should seem from hence, that before our marine artillery was
brought to its present perfection, some naval commanders had recourse
to instruments or machines, similar in use, though perhaps unlike in
construction, to the heavy dolphins made of lead or iron used by the
ancient Greeks, which they suspended from beams or yards fastened to
the mast, and which they precipitately let fall on the enemy's ship, in
order to sink them by beating holes through the bottoms of their un-
decked Triremes, or otherwise damaging them. These are mentioned
by Thucydides, lib. vii. p. 256, ed. 1564, folio, and are more fully ex-
plained in Schefferi de MilitiA Navali^ lib. ii. cap. 5, p. 136, ed.
1653, 4to. — Bishop Percys Note,

46 A SAILORS GARLAND

THE SECOND PART

The merchant sett my lorde a glasse

Soe weU apparent in his sights
And on the morrowe^ by nine of the docke,

He shewed him Sir Andrewe Barton knight.
His hacfaebord it was " gilt " with gold,

Soe deerlye dight it dazzled the ee :
" Nowe by my faith/' lord Howarde sais,

^* This is a gallant sight to see.

*^ Take in your tmcyenU, standards eke.

So close that no man may them see ;
And put me forth a white will owe wandj

As merchants use to sayle the sea."
But they stirred neither top, nor mast ; ^

Stoutly they past Sir Andrew by.

What English churles are yonder/' he sayd,

'^ That can soe litle curtesye ?

'* Now by the roode, three yeares and more

I have beene admirall over the sea ;
And never an English nor Portingall

Without my leave can pass this way."
Then called he forth his stout pinnace ;

'* Fetch backe yond pedlars nowe to mee :
I sweare by the masse, yon English churles

Shall all hang att my maine-mast tree."

With that the pinnace itt shott off.

Full well lord Howard might it ken ;
For itt stroke down my lord's fore mast.

And killed fourteen of his men.
^ Come hither, Simon/' sayes my lord,

" Looke that thy word be true, thou said ;
For at my maine-mast thou shalt hang.

If thou misse thy marke one shilling bread.

^ ue, did not salute.

Sm ANDREW BARTON 47

Simon was old, but his heart itt was bold.

His ordinance he laid right lowe ;
He put in chain fuU nine yardes long,^

With other great shott lesse, and moe.
And he lette goe his great gonnes shott :

Soe well he settled itt with his ee.
The first sight that Sir Andrewe sawe.

He saw his pinnace sunke in the sea.

And when he saw his pinnace sunke.

Lord, how his heart with rage did swell !
'^ Nowe cutt my ropes, itt is time to be gon ;

He fetch yond pedlars backe mysell."
When my Lord sawe Sir Andrewe loose,

Within his heart hee was fuliyotne :
'^ Nowe spread your ancyents, strike up drummes,

Sound aU your trumpetts out amaine.'

*' Fight on, my men," Sir Andrewe sais,

" Weale howsoever this geere wUl swmf ;
Itt is my lord admirall of &igland.

Is come to seek mee on the sea."
Simon had a sonne, who shott right weU,

That did Sir Andrewe mickle scare ;
In att his decke he gave a shott.

Killed threescore of his men of warre.

Then Henrye Hunt with rigour hott

Came bravely on the other side,
Soone he drove downe his fore-mast tree

And killed fourscore men beside.
" Nowe, out alas I " Sir Andrewe cryed,

'^ What may a man now thinke, or say ?
Yonder merchant theefe, that pierceth mee.

He was my prisoner yesterday.

^J.e, discharged chain shot

48 A SAILORS GARLAND

^^ Come hither to me^ thou Gordon good^

That aye wast readye att my call ;
I will give thee three hundred markes^

If thou wilt let my heames downe fall."
Lord Howard hee then call'd in haste,

" Horseley, see thou be true in stead ;
For thou shalt at the maine-mast hang^

If thou misse twelvescore one penny bread."

Then Gordon swarved the maine-mast tree^

He swarved it with might and maine ;
But Horseley with a bearing ^ arrowe.

Stroke the Gordon through the braine ;
And he fell unto the haches again.

And sore his deadlye wounde did bleed :
Then word went through Sir Andrew's men.

How that the Gordon hee was dead.

^^ Come hither to mee, James Hambilton,

Thou art my only sister's sonne.
If thou wilt let my beames down fall.

Six hundred nobles thou hast wonne."
With that he swarved the maine-mast tree.

He swarved it with nimble art ;
But Horseley with a broad arrowe

Pierced the Hambilton through the heart

And downe he fell upon the deck.

That with his blood did streame amaine :
Then every Scott cryed, " Well-away !

Alas a comelye youth is slaine ! "
All woe begone was Sir Andrew then.

With griefe and rage his heart did swell :
'^ Go fetch me forth my armour of proofe,

For I will to the topcastle myselL'

^ sc^ that canries well, etc

i»

SIR ANDREW BARTON 49

'* Goe fetch me forth my armour of proofe ;

That gilded is with gold soe cleare :
Grod be with my brother John of Barton !

Against the Portingalls hee it ware ;
And when he had on his armour of proofe^

He was a gallant sight to see :
Ah ! nere didst thou meet with living wight,

My deere brother, could cope with thee."

'^ Come hither, Horseley/' sayes my lord,

" And looke your shaft that itt goe right.
Shoot a good shoote in time of need.

And for it thou shalt be made a knight."
" He shoot my best," quoth Horseley then,

" Your honour shall see, with might and maine ;
But if I were hanged at your maine-mast,

I have now left but arrowes twaine."

Sir Andrew he did swarve the tree.

With right good will he swarved then :
Upon his breast did Horseley hitt.

But the arrow bounded back agen.
Then Horseley spyed a privye place

With a perfect eye in a secrette part ;
Under the spole of his right arme

He smote Sir Andrew to the heart.

" Fight on, my men," Sir Andrew sayes,

" A little Ime hurt, but yett not slaine ;
He but lye downe and bleede a while.

And then He rise and fight againe.
Fight on, my men," Sir Andrew sayes,

" And never flinche before the foe ;
And stand fast by St. Andrewes crosse

Untill you heare my whistle blowe."

They never heard his whistle blow, —

Which made their hearts waxe sore adread

Then Horseley say'd, " Aboard, my lord.
For well I wott Sir Andrew's dead,"

so A SAILOR'S GARLAND

They boarded then his noble shipp^
They boarded it with might and maine

Eighteen score Scots alive they founds
The rest were either maimed or slaine.

Lord Howard tooke a sword in hand^

And off he smote Sir Andrewes head,
" I must have left England many a daye.

If thou wert alive as thou art dead.**
He caused his body to be cast

Over the hatchbord into the sea.
And about his middle three hundred crownes :

** Wherever thou land this will bury thee."

Thus from the warres Lord Howard came,

And backe he sayled ore the maine,
With mickle joy and triumphing

Into Thames mouth he came againe.
Lord Howard then a letter wrote,

And sealed it with scale and ring ;
*^ Such a noble prize have I iMmight to your grace.

As never did subject to a king :

" Sir Andrewes shipp I bring with mee ;

A braver shipp was never none :
Nowe hath your grace two shipps of warr.

Before in England was but one.**
King Henryes grace with royall cheere

Welcomed the noble Howard home,
'^ And where," said he, " is this rover stout.

That I myselfe may give the doome ? "

" The rover, he is safe, my liege.

Full many a fadom in the sea ;
If he were alive as he is dead,

I must have left England many a day :
And your grace may thank four men i' the ship

For the victory wee have wonne.
These are William Horseley, Henry Hunt,

And Peter Simon, and his sonne."

THE ENGLISH CAPTAINS 51

To Henry Hunt, the king then sayd,

'' In lieu of what was from thee tane^
A noble a day now thou shalt have^

Sir Andrewes jewels and his chayne.
And Horseley^ thou shalt be a knight^

And lands and livings shalt have store ;
Howard shall be erie Surrye hight^

As Howards erst have been before.

" Nowe, Peter Simon^ thou art old,

I will maintaine thee and thy sonne :
And the men shall have five hundred markes

For the good service they have done."
Then in came the queene with ladyes fair

To see Sir Andrewe Barton knight :
They weend that hee were brought on shore.

And thought to have seen a gallant sight.

But when they see his deadlye face.

And eyes soe hollow in his head,
" I wold give," quoth the king, ^^ a thousand markes,

This man were alive as hee is dead :
Yett for the manfull part hee playd.

Which fought soe well with heart and hand.
His men shall have twelvepence a day.

Till they come to my brother king's high land."

THE ENGLISH CAPTAINS

CouRAOBovs Cabot, brave Venetian bom.
Fostered with honour-breathing English air.
Victorious Henry's name the more t' adorn.
And to emblazon Troynovant the fair.
Unto the far-most climates made repair :
And by the Southern and Septentrion
Measured the fame of &mous Albion.

52 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Lightiess and nameless Prima-vista lay^

Till from his eyes it borrowed name and light ;

Flora did never Florida array^

Roses nor lilies shewed their shining sprite.

Till it was ros'd and lilied with his sight :

Thrice happy sight that verdant spring composes.

By strewing lands with lilies and with roses.

By Labrador's high promontory Cape,
Beyond the isles of Cuba, Cabot sailed,
Discovering Baccalaos uncouth shape :
The mighty Silver-River not concealed.
His tributary sands to him revealed.
Nor 'dain^ it to be a tributor
Unto the Ocean's mighty emperor.

Honour of England, brave Sebastian,

Mirror of Britain's magnanimity.

Although by birth a right Venetian,

Yet for thy valour, art, and constancy.

Due unto England from thy infancy :

Venice, thou claimst his birth, England his art.

Now judge thyself which hath the better part.

Wyndham, although thy rash temerity,

Hast'ning for endless gain, gain hast'ned end ;

And through improvident celerity.

Too soon accelerated death did send :

Yet since so far thy valour did extend.

And death for rashness made full satisfaction.

Why should not fame advance thy valorous action ?

With like misfortune (though unlike advise)

Did fame-ennobled Willoughby intend

A famous action's hapless enterprize ;

Arzina saw his lamentable end,

Which her eternal winter's frost did send :

Though freezing cold benumbed his vital flame.

Heat shall not hurt, nor cold consume his Fame.

THE ENGLISH CAPTAINS 53

Fortune not alwaj good^ nor alway ill^

WiUing to show her mercy with her power.

Feasted on other s falls (as seemed) her fill.

Smiled with a mild aspect on Chancellour,

Making herself his daily oratour :

Hereby, quoth she, the world shall know my powers

How Fortune sometimes laughs as well as lowers.

Forthwith for him a bark herself she framed.

Enchanting it with an almighty charm ;

Which she the blissful BonaverUure named.

Which wind, nor wave, nor heat, nor cold could harm.

While her omnipotence the same did arm.

Guiding it safely to Moscovia,

Safely reducing it from Russia.

Bold with success, and proud on Fortune's favour.

Again his lofly sails he doth advance.

Allured by silver's soul-attractive savour :

But fortune (like the moon in change and chance.

That never twice doth shew like coimtenance)

At Pettisligo drenched him in the seas :

Thus most she hurts, when most she seems to please.

Ask the Wingandicoa savages.

They can relate of Grenville and his deeds ;

The Isles of Flores, and Azores, these

Extol his valour and victorious meeds ;

While Spain's griped heart fresh streams of anguish

bleeds :
His worth with all the world his praise made even,
But he scorned earth, and therefore went to Heaven.

What Time-out-sliding thought so far could fly.
As did heroic Cavendish drive his sails ?
The great Magores' Kingdom did he see.
Where freezing Boreas rings his northern peals,
'Gainst whose benumbing blast no heat avails :
His prowess hath been known to Malacca
And to her neighbour-bordering Bengala.

54 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Knighted by honour in desert's hir fields
Death-scorning Gilbert^ chronicled by ^me.
To England's Monarchess did force to yield
The savage land (that Newfound now we name)
Making wild people mild^ submisse and tame.
O^ were men's lives unto their praise's tied !
Then, noble Grilbert, hadst thou never died.

If searching labyrinths inextricable.

By hard adventures and ambiguous ways.

To purchase glory and renown be able.

And meritorious of eternal praise :

Then Frobisher out-lives the Sybil's days :

What death took from his life, this gives his name

Death hath no dart to slay deserved fame.

Rich China, and fisiir Met' Incognita,

Admired his valour and extolled his fame,

Cathaia, and the great America,

The dangerous Straits that yet do bear his name.

Are monumental annals of the same ;

Annals, wherein posterity shall read,

How Fame the living salves, revives the dead.

Now drop, my pen, in ink of dreary tears,

A name of late of laughter and of joy ;

But now (O death, the agent of our fears)

A name of dolour and of dire annoy,

The sad memorial of the Fates destroy :

Hawkins (O, now my heart, cleave thou asunder)

In naming him (meseems) I name a wonder.

Nestor in wisdom, art, and policy,
Nestor in knowledge, skill, and prudency,
Nestor in counsel and in gravity,
Nestor in wit, foresight, and modesty,
Nestor in might and magnanimity :
O would he had (as he had Nestor's hairs)
Enjoy^ Nestor's age, and Nestor's years.

THE ENGLISH CAPTAINS 55

A mortal man more than a man of late^

If mortal man more than a man may be^

Since his life's calendar is out of date^

And death's new-year exacts his 'customed fee^

No more a man^ not mortal now is he :

No more a man because of breath bereaven^

Mortal no more^ because a Saint in Heaven.

Clifford, a name that stiU was ominous.
Prefiguring an high-resolvW mind.
Victorious, venturous, vertuous, valorous.
Eternal adjuncts to that noble kind.
By nature's secret influence assigned ;
Who can deny that names are ominous ?
For Clifford's name hath still been valorous.

Nectar-tongued Sydney, England's Mars and Muse,

Heroic Devbreux had never sent

Their royal blood to earth's unworthy use ;

Nor Frobisher his breath at Brest had spent.

We should not Winofield's loss so much lament ;

Such worthies might have saved their vital breath.

By one accursed vassal's worthy death.

Then might victorious Clifford yet survive,

And with renown-invested Baskerville

Re-greet fair Albion's shining shore alive ;

No Spaniard had triumphed in his ill.

Nor boasted he so brave a knight did kill :

If, but by one, whose worth his worth could stain.

He had not been slain, he had not been slain.

Sleep you securely, O thrice blessed bones.

The sacred relics of so fair a Saint,

In your rich tomb enchased with precious stones.

Till honour shall your destiny prevent.

And Fame revive the breath that Fates have spent

And if no Homer will display your name.

Accept a Cherilus to do the same.

56 A SAILORS GARLAND

Live, O live ever, ever-living Sprites,

Wherever live the sprites of virtuous livers.

Heavens have your souls, the Earth your fame inherits :

But when Earth's massy apple turns to shivers.

And fire conjoins that nature now dissevers.

That hold's your souls shall then your fames contain ;

For Earth shall end, your praise shall still remain.

What though you left your bodies far from home.

And some on seas, and some died on the sand.

Losing the honour of your father's tomb.

Which many seek, few have, none understand ?

Heaven is as nearjrom sea, asjrom the land :

What though your countiy-tomb you could not have ?

You sought your country's good, not country's grave.

More than most blest (if more than most may be)

Spirits of more than most renownM wights :

But if of more than most be no degree.

As much as most you are, victorious Knights.

Earth's admirations, and the Heaven's delights ;

And as, in worth, you were Superlatives,

So shall you be, in Fame, Infinitives.

Charles Fitz-GsFFERY

SIR FRANCIS DRAKE REVIV'D

The Steersman, Aloof, and aloof, and steady I steer 1

Tis a boat to our wish.

And she slides like a fish.
When cheerily stemmed, and when you row clear.

She now has her trim !

Away let her swim.
Mackrels are swift in the shine of the moon :
And herrings in gales when they wind us,
But, timing our oars, so smoothly we run,
That we leave them in shoals behind us.

SIR FRANCIS DRAKE REVIVT) 57

The Mariners, Then cry^ One and all !

Amain ! For Whitehall !
The Diegoes we'll board to rummage their hold ;
And drawing our steely they must draw out their gold.

The Steersman, Our master and 's mate, with bacon and

pease.
In cabins keep aboard ;
Each as warm as a lord.
No queen, l3ing in, lies more at her ease.
Whilst we lie in wait
For reals of eight.
And for some gold quoits which fortune must send :
But, alas, how their ears will tingle,
When finding, though still little Hectors we spend.
Yet still all our pockets shall jingle.
The Mariners, Then cry. One and all !

Amain I For Whitehall !
The Diegoes we'll board to rummage their hold ;
And drawing our steel, they must draw out their
gold.

The Steersman, But oh, how the Purser shortly will

wonder.
When he sums in his book
All the wealth we have took.
And finds that we'll give him none of the plunder ;
He means to abate
The tithe for the state ;
Then for our owners some part he'll discount :
But his fingers are pitched together ;
Where so much will stick, that little will mount.
When he reckons the shares of either.
The Mariners, Then cry, One and all !

Amain I For Whitehall !
The Diegoes we'll board to rummage their hold ;
And drawing our steel, they must draw out their
gold.

58 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

The Steenman. At sight of our gold, the boatswain will

bristle.
But not finding his part.
He will break his proud heart.
And hang himself straight in the chain of his

whistle.
Abaft and afore.
Make way to the shore.
Softly as fishes which slip through the stream.
That we may catch their sentries napping.
Poor little Diegoes, they now little dream
Of us the brave warriors of Wapping.
The Manners. Then cry. One and all !

Amain ! For Whitehall !
The Diegoes we'll board to rummage their hold ;
And drawing our steel, they must draw out their gold.

(From the opera. The History of Sir Francis Drake^ by Sir
William Davenant, 1659. The opera is founded on the prose
narrative "Sir Francis Drake revived." "One and All," "Amain,"
and " For Whitehall," were familiar war-cries of the mid-seventeenth
century. " Amain " was the sailor's summons to an enemy to surrender
his ship. The word " board" is used here as Sir Toby Belch uses it
in Twelfth Night, The attack planned was a land attack, and the
only "lioarding" done was the stopping of a train of mules carrying
silver and gold.)

ON SIR FRANCIS DRAKE

You, whose exploits the world itself admired,

Admire the strange exploits of peerless Drake ;

And you whom neither lands nor seas have tired.

Have tired your tongues when they rehearsal make

What hard adventures he did undertake ;

Then if that such Atlantes are too weak.

What marvell if this weight our shoulders break ?

O you once matchless monarchs of the seas.
But now advanced to an higher place.
Invested Vice-roys and high Satrapes,
In that fair palace near the milken race ;

ON SIR FRANCIS DRAKE 59

think not that his praise doth yours defaee :
If he be justly praised^ you justly graced^
Your graces by his praise are not defaced.

What though his worth above yours is extolled ?
Yet thereby is not yours extenuated :
What though your neighbour's jewels dearer sold^
Than for the price whereat your gem is rated ?
What thereby is your diamond abated ?
Wherefore to give both him and you your due

1 say he was the best^ the next were you.

So in the May-tide of his summer age^
Valour enmoved the mind of vent'rous Drake^
To lay his life with winds and waves in gage^
And bold and hard adventures t' undertake^
Leaving his country for his country's sake :
Loathing the life that cowardice doth stain^
Preferring deaths if death might honour gain.

At Cuba silver^ at Coquimbo gold,
At China cloth and precious silks he found.
Pearl at the Pearled Isles he did behold ;
Rich cochineels hoarded did abound^
Embosom'd in Tichamachalco's ground :
Thus his industrious labour still did raise
The public profit and his private praise.

• ••••••

He that hath been where none but he hath been^
Leaving the world behind him as he went ;
He that hath seen that none but he hath seen^
Searching if any other world unkent^
Lay yet within the Ocean's bosom pent :
Even he was Drake : O could I say he is^
No music would revive the soul like this.

He that did pass the Straits of Magellan^

And saw the famous island Mogadore :

He that unto the Isle of Mayo came.

Where winter yieldeth grapes in plenteous store :

6o A SAILORS GARLAND

He that the Isle of Fogo passed before,
A second Etna, where continual smoke
Of brimstone-burning vaults the air doth choke.

He that at Brava saw perpetual Spring
Gracing the trees with never-fading green,
Like laurel branches ever flourishing :
He that at Taurapaza's port had been :
He that the rich Molucca's Isles had seen :
He that a new found Albion descried.
And safely home again his bark did guide.
• •.... .

Charles Fitz-Geffery

SIR RICHARD GRENVILLE^ FAREWELL, ON
HIS SAILING FOR FOREIGN PARTS IN
THE YEAR 1686

A Ballad in Praise of Seafaring Men

Who seeks the way to win renown.
Or flies with wings of high desire^
Who seeks to wear the laurel crown^
Or hath the mind that would aspire^
Let him his native soil eschew^
Let him go range^ and seek a new.

Each haughty heart is well content^
With every chance that shall betide ;
No hag can hinder his intent ;
He steadfast stands^ though fortune slide.
The sun^ quoth he^ doth shine as well
Abroad^ as erst where I did dwell.

In change of streams each fish can live^
Each fowl content with every air,
Each haughty heart remaineth still,
And not be drowned in deep despair :
Wherefore I judge all lands alike.
To haughty hearts who fortune seek*

THE TAKING OF CARTAGENA 6l

To pass the seas some think a toil^
Some think it strange abroad to roam ;
Some think it a grief to leave their soil^
Their parents^ kinfolk^ and their home.
Think so who list^ I ]ike it not ;
I must abroad to try my lot.

Who list at home at cart to drudge^
And cark and care for worldly trashy
With buckled shoes let him go trudge^
Instead of lance or whip to slash ;
A mind that base his kind will show
Is carrion meet to feed a crow.

If Jason of that mind had been^
The Grecians when they came to Troy,
Had never so the Trojans foiled
Nor put them all to such annoy :
Wherefore who lust may live at home.
To purchase fame I will go roam.

{Sloane MS. 2497, fol. 47)

THE TAKING OF CARTAGENA

(From the True and Perfecte Newes of the Worthy
Enterprises of Sir Francis Drake, 1586)

The Mariners the while provide
For victuals and fresh water sweet :
With other commodities beside,
Which was conveyed aboard the fleet.
Commandment then was given straightway :
" All men aboard without delay."

Then presently they sailM thence,
To one rich island they were bent :
But wind and storm turned their pretence.
And other course they then invent.
With Cartagena they set at last.
Where aU their fleet their anchors cast.

62 A SAILORS GARLAND

This town Mras strong, well fenced about,

Four hundred soldiers under pay :

Four hundred Indians in a scout.

Besides their townsmen in array.

For they had news that Drake would come :

And they thought sure to foe his doom.

Their fort well manned and fortified,
Five sconces wherein good ordnance was :
Three gaUeys then were amplified.
With fifteen pieces of good Inrass.
Full little then they feared the Drake :
For they thought sure to make him quake.

One mischief more they did devise,
Whereby they thought to spoil our men :
Many poisoned pricks in sundry wise.
Amidst their way they listened then.
To prick their shins they did purpdse :
But the Lord (rod did that disclose.

Nine hundred men were set on land.

And marching forth then all by night :

Until they cane unto the strand.

Where pricks with poisoned heads were dight.

The water low, as God's will was :

'Twixt strand and seas they safely pass.

Then in the mom before daylight.
They came full in their enemy's face :
Then all at once with force and might.
They ran upon them in a race.
For all their force and thundering shot :
One of their sconces soon they got

As God shut up the Lion's jaws.
From 'nojing His Prophet Daniell :
And eke preserved from tyrant's paws.
The three children of Israel.
And saved them in the oven so hot :
So He conveyed away their shot.

THE TAKING OP CARTAGENA 63

Our captains then^ mcNst valiantly^

To courage their soldiers for to fight :

Did jeopard themselves then foremostly^

Which made their enemies dread their mighty

Bold soldiers put foes to shame :

To win their country honour and fame.

From sconce to sconce they then retire^
Their lofty hearts right soon were quailed :
They left their holds and fled for fear^
Then with their heels they best prevaiL
And as they fled strange news they tell :
*' These be no men but fiends of Hell."

Their ordnance and artillery^

Which in their holds did then remain^

Our men achieve with victory.

The town, like case, they won certain.

Their ensigns then they did display

Upon their walls ; none durst say nay.

The soldiers then seek for their prey.
Some for their bellies likewise did care :
Though breakfast sharp, now, care away.
Their dinner's sweet and wholesome fiire.
Bread and victuals they found good store :
With wine and sugar as erst before.^

They make a sconce amidst the street.
And placed great ordnance in the same
To charge the watch when 't came to night.
To daunt their foes, their rage to tame.
Being shot ofi*, their thundering sound
So shook their Church, the roof fell down.

This town also they kept a space.

And eke the Friary there beside ;

These townsmen then with humble grace,

Besought the general at that tide.

To release their town he would vouchsave

And they would give what he would have.

^ At San Domingo.

64 A SAIL0RT5 GARLAND

All things provided orderly^
And brought unto the water's side^
Munitions and artillery.
Was all embarked at that tide,
The mariners, without delay.
These things aboard with speed convey.
• •••••

Then when aboard their ships they come.
They were received joyfully,
A peal of guns, with thundering soune.
For one hour's space even pierced the sky.
Their drums struck up, their trumpets sound
Their victories which did abound.

Their yards across hoist at the top.
Their anchors weighed then presently :
Theirs sails displayed, their good ships lop,
The mariners stand their tacklings by.
Each helm belayed with good respect.
As skilful masters did direct.

'* Quoth Thomas Grbepb

»>

FROM ALBION'S ENGLAND

The Spaniard's long time care and cost, invincible

sumam'd.
Was now afloat, whilst Parma too from Flanders hither

aim'd.
Like fleet, of eight score ships, and odd, the ocean never

bore,
So huge, so strong, and so complete, in every strength

and store :
Carracks, galleons, argosies, and galliasses, such
That seem'd so many castles, and their tops the clouds to

touch.
These on the Lizards shew themselves, and threaten

England's fall ;
But there with fifty ships of ours that fleet was fought

withaL

FROM ALBION^ ENGLAND 6$

Howbeit of a greater sort our navy did consist^

But part kept diet in the port^ that might of health have

miss'd^
Had Spain's Armada of our wants in Plymouth's haven

wist.
The rest had eye on Parma^ that from Flanders armour

threats :
Meanwhile Lord Charles our Admiral^ and Drake did

worthy feats :
Whose fearless fifty mole-hills bow'd their tripled moun-
tains' base^
And even at first (so pleas'd it God) pursued as if in

chase.
By this (for over-idle seem'd to English hearts the shore)
Our gallants did embark each where and made our forces

more.
But in such warlike order then their ships at anchor lay^
That we, unless we them disperse, on bootless labour stay.
Nor lacked policy that to that purpose made us way.
Ours fired divers ships, that down the current sent, so

scared.
That cables cut, and anchors lost, the Spaniards badly

fared.
Dispersed thus, we spare not shot, and part of them we

sink.
And part we board, the rest did fly, not fast enough they

think.
Well guided little axes so force tallest oaks to fall.
So numbrous herds of stately harts, fly beagles few and

small.
Nine days together chas'd we them, not actions, save in

flight :
About eight thousands perished by famine, sea, and fight.
For treasure, ships, and carriages, lost honour, prisoners

ta'en.
The Spaniards hardly 'scaping hence, 'scapt not rebukes

in Spain.
Well might thus much (as much it did) cheer England,

but much more
Concurrency from one to all to stop that common sore.

66 A SAILOR'S GARLANB

Even Catholics (that erred name doth please the Papists)

were
As forward in this quarrel as the foremost arms to bear ;
Recusants and suspects of note : of others was no care^
And had not our God-guided fight on seas prevailed^ yet
The Spaniards^ land whereso they could^ had with our

armies met^
Our common courage wish'd no less^ so lightly fear'd we

foes
Such hope in God^ such hate of them^ such hearts to

barter blows.
Here flam'd the Cyclop's forges^ Mars his armoury was

here.
Himself he sheds in us, and with our cause ourselves we

cheer.
But (which had scarrified our wounds, if wounded, with

the balm
Of her sweet presence, so applaus'd as in sea storms a calm)
Her royal self, Elizabeth our sovereign gracious Queen,
In magnanimous majesty amidst her troops was seen.
Which made us weep for joy, nor was her kindness less

to us.
Think nothing letting then that might the common cause

discuss.
Where prince and people have in love a sympathy as

thus.
Howbeit force, nor policy, but God's sole providence.
Did clear fore-boasted conquest and benighted thraldom

hence.
He in Sennacherib his nose did put his hook, and brought
Him back again the way he came without performing

aught ;
He fought for us, alonely we did shout and trumpets sounds
When as the walls of Jericho fell flat unto the ground.
Yea lest (for erst did never hear like strong supplies

befall,
Like loyal hearts in everyone, like warlike minds in all.
Less spare of purses, more foresight, and valiant guides

to act.
As shew'd our hardy little fleet that battle never slack'd)

DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ARMADA 6j

Lest these^ I say^ might have been said the cause that we

subdued^
Even God to glorify Himself, our gained cause pursued.
Without our loss of man, or mast, or foe once touching

shore.
Save such as wreck'd were prisoners, or but landing, liv'd

not more.
And as in public prayers we did His defence implore.
So being victors, publicly, we yielded thanks therefor.
Her Highness' self (good cause she had) in view of every

eye.
On humbled knees did give Him thanks that gave her

victory.
Remaineth, what she won, what Spain and Rome did

lose in fiime :
Remaineth, Popes use potentates but to retrieve their

game.

William Warner

THE DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ARMADA

Some years of late, in eighty-eight

As I do well remember.
It was, some say, the tenth of May,

And, some say, in September,

Afidy some say, in September.

The Spanish train launch'd forth amain.

With many a fine bravado.
Their (as they thought, but it proved not)

Invincible Armado,

Invinctble Armado.

There was a httle man, that dwelt in Spain,

Who shot well in a gun-a,
Don Pedro hight, as black a wight

As the Knight of the Sun-a,

As the Knight of the Sun-a.

68 A SAILORS GARLAND

King Philip made him Admiral^
And bid him not to stay-a^

But to destroy both man and boy^
And so to come away-a^
And so to come away-eu

Their Navy was well victualled

With biscuit^ pease^ and bacon ;
They brought two ships^ well fraught with whips^

But I think they were mistaken^

But I think they were mistaken.

Their men were youngs mimition strong,

And, to do us more harm-a.
They thought it meet to join the fleet,

All with the Prince of Parma,

All with the Prince of Parma.

They coasted round about our land.
And so came in by Dover ;

But we had men set on them then
And threw the rascals over.
And threw the rascals over.

The Queen was then at Tilbury,
What more could we desire-a ?

And Sir Francis Drake, for her sweet sake.
Did set them all on fire-a.
Did set them all onjire-a.

Then, straight, they fled, by sea and land.
That one man killed threescore^ ;

And had not they all ran away.
In truth he had killed more-a.
In truth he had killed more-a.

A FAREWELL 69

Then let them neither brag nor boast^

But if they come agen-a,;
Let them take heed^ they do not speed

As they did, you know when-a.

A FAREWELL TO THE MOST FAMOUS
GENERALS, SIR JOHN NORRIS AND SIR
FRANCIS DRAKE, KNIGHTS

Have done with care^ my hearts^ aboard amain^

With stretching sails to plough the swelling waves :

Bid England's shore and Albion's chalky cUffs

Farewell ; bid stately Troynovant adieu^

Where pleasant Thames^ from Isls' silver head^

Begins her quiet glide^ and runs along

To that brave bridge^ the bar that thwarts her course.

Near neighbour to that ancient Stony Tower,

The glorious hold that Julius Caesar built.

Change love for arms ; gird-to your arms, my boys !

Your rests and muskets take, take helm and targe.

And let God Mars his consort make you mirth, —

The roaring cannon, and the brazen trump.

The angry sounding drum, the whistling fife.

The shrieks of men, the princely courser's neigh.

Now vail your bonnets to your friends at home .

Bid all the lovely British dames adieu.

That under many a standard well-advanced.

Have hid the sweet alarms and braves of love ;

Bid theatres and proud tragedians.

Bid Mahmet, Scipio, mighty Tamburlaine,

King Charlemagne, Tom Stukely and the rest.

Adieu. To arms, to arms, to glorious arms

With noble Norris, and victorious Drake,

Under the sanguine cross, brave England's badge.

To propagate religious piety.

And hew a passage with your conquering swords

By land and sea, wherever Phoebus' eye.

70 A SAILORS GARLAND

Th' eternal lamp of Heaven, lends us light ;
By golden Tagus, or the western Inde,
Or through the spacious bay of Portugal,
The wealthy ocean-main, the Tyrrhene sea.
From great Alcides' pillars branching forth
Even to the gulf that leads to lofty Rome ;
There to deface the pride of Antichrist,
And pull his paper walls and popery down, —
A famous enterprise for England's strength.
To steel your swords on Avarice* triple crown.
And cleanse Augeas' stalls in Italy.

To arms, my fellow-soldiers. Sea and land
Lie open to the voyage you intend ;
And sea or land, bold Britons, far or near.
Whatever coarse your matchless virtue shapes,
Whether to Europe's bounds, or Asian plains.
To Afric's shore, or rich America,
Down to the shades of deep Avemus' crags.
Sail on, pursue your honours to your graves :
Heaven is a sacred covering for your heads.
And every climate virtue's tabernacle.
To arms, to arms, to honourable arms !
Hoist sail, weigh anchors up, plough up the seas
With flying keels, plough up the land with swords :
In God's name venture on ; and let me say
To you, my mates, as Caesar said to his.
Striving with Neptune's hills ; '^ You bear," quoth he,
'' CsBsar, and Caesar's fortune in your ships."
You follow them whose swords successful are :
You follow Drake, by sea the scourge of Spain,
The dreadful dragon, terror to your foes.
Victorious in his return from Inde,
In all his high attempts unvanquished ;
You follow noble Norris, whose renown
Won in the fertile fields of Belgia,
Spreads by the gates of Europe to the courts
Of Christian kings and heathen potentates.
You fight for Christ, and England's peerless Queen,
Elizabeth, the wonder of the world.
Over whose throne the enemies of God

THE SAILOR'S ONELY DELIGHT Ji

Have thundered erst their vain successless braves.
O^ ten-times-treble happy men^ that fight
Under the cross of Christ and England's queen.
And follow such as Drake and Norris are !
All honours do this cause accompany ;
All glory on these endless honours waits ;
These honours and this glory shall He send.
Whose honour and whose glory you defend.

George Peele (1589)

THE SAILOR'S ONELY DELIGHT^

Shewing the brave fight between the George-Alae^ the Sweepstake^
and certain Frenchmen at Sea.

The George- Aloe, and the Sweepstake, too.
With hey, with hoe, for and a nony no,

O, they were Merchant-men, and bound for Safee
And alongst the Coast of Barhary,

The George- A he to anchor came

With hey, etc.
And the jolly Sweepstake kept on her way

And alongst, etc.

They had not sayled leagues two or three.

With hey, etc.
But they met with a French Man-of-War upon the Sea,

And alongst, etc.

All haile, all haile, you lusty Gallants,

With hey, etc.
Of whence is your fair Ship, and whither are you bound?

And alongst, etc.

We are Englishmen, and bound for Safee,

With hey, etc.
Of whence is your fair Ship, and whither are you bound .f^

And alongst, etc.

^ This poem is quoted in the play of the Twa Noble Kinsmen^ by
Shakespeare and Fletcher, Act iii. Scene v.

72 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Amaine^ Amaine,^ you gallant Englishman,

With hetfy etc.
Come you French Swads,^ and strike down your sayle.

And aUmgst, etc.

They laid us aboard on the Starboard side.

With hey, etc.
And they overthrew us into the Sea so wide,

And aUmgst, etc.

When tidings to the George^Aloe came.

With hey, etc.
That the jolly Sweepstake by a Frenchman was ta'en,
. . And alongst, etc.

To top. To top,^ thou little Ship-boy,

With hey, etc.
And see if this French Man-of-War thou canst descry.

And alongst, etc.

A Sayle, a Sayle, under our lee.

With hey, etc.
Yea, and another under her obey.

And alongst, etc.

Weigh anchor, weigh anchor, O jolly Boat-swain,

With hey, etc.
We will take this Frenchman, if we can.

And alongst, etc.

We had not sayled leagues two or three.

With hey, etc.
But we met the French Man-of-War upon the Sea,

And alongst, etc.

^ Amain, surrender.

^ Swads, query Swais ? swabbers, the ship's scavengers, the
pumpers, and sea-menials.

[ipers

the platform on the masts above the lower yards of ships.

THE SAILORS ONELY DELIGHT 73

All haile^ All haile, you lusty Gallants,

With key, etc.
Of whence is your &iie Ship, and whither are you bound ?

And aiongit^ etc,

O, wee are Merchant-men and bound for Safee,

With hey, etc.
Ay, wee are French-men, and war upon the sea.

And idongtt, etc,

Amaine, Amaine, you English Dogges,

With hey, etc.
Come aboard, you French rogues, and strike down your
sailes.

And alongst, etc.

The first good shot that the George-Aloe shot.

With hey, etc.
He made the Frenchman's heart sore afiraid.

And idongst, etc.

The second shot the George-Aloe did afford.

With hey, etc.
He struck their Main-mast over the board.

And ahnggt, etc.

Have mercy, have mercy, you brave English Men,

With hey, etc,
O, what have you done with our Brethren on shore,

A9 they 9ayled in Barbaric ?

We laid them aboard the Starboard side.

With hey, etc.
And we threw them into the Sea so wide,

And ahngst, etc.

Such mercy as you have shewed unto them.

With hey, etc.
Then the like mercy shall you have again,

And ahngst, etc.

74 A SAILORS GARLAND

Wee laid them aboard the Larboard side.

With hey, etc.
And wee threw them into the Sea so wide.

And alongst, etc.

Lord, how it grieves our hearts full Sore,

With hey, etc.
To see the drown d Frenchmen swim along the shore,

And alongsty etc.

Now gallant Seamen all, adieu.

With hey, etc.
This is the last Newes I can write to you.

To England's Coast from Barbaric.

THE WINNING OF CALEB

" The subject of this ballad is the taking of the city of Cadiz (called
by our sailors corruptly Cales) on June 21, 1596, in a descent made on
tiie coast of Spain, under the command of the Lord Howard, admiral,
and the Earl of Essex, general."

Long the proud Spaniards had vaunted to conquer us,

Threatning our country with fyer and sword ;
Often preparing their navy most sumptuous
With as great plenty as Spain could affoi*d.

Dub a dub, dub a dub, thus strike their drums :
Tantara, tantara, the Englishman comes.

To the seas presentlye went our lord admiral.
With knights couragious and captains full good ;

The brave Earl of Essex, a prosperous general.
With him prepared to pass the salt flood.
Dub a dub, etc.

At Plymouth speedilye, took they ship valiantlye.

Braver ships never were seen under sayle.
With their fair colours spread, and streamers ore their
head.
Now bragging Spaniards, take heed oi your tayle.
Dub a dub, etc.

THE WINNING OF CALES 7S

Unto Gales cunninglye^ came we most speedilje^
Where the kinges navy securelye did ryde ;

Being upon their backs^ piercing their butts of sacks^
Ere any Spaniards our coming descryde.
Dub a dub^ etc.

Great was the crying^ the running and ryding^
Which at that season was made in that place ;

The beacons were fyred^ as need then required ;
To hyde their great treasure they had little space.
Dub a dub^ etc

There you might see their ships, how they were fyred fast,
And how their men drowned themselves in the sea ;

There might you hear them cry, wayle and weep piteously.
When they saw no shift to scape thence away.
Dub a dub, etc.

The great St Phillip, the pryde of the Spaniards,
Was burnt to the bottom, and sunk in the sea ;

But the St Andrew, and eke the St, Matthew,
Wee took in fight manfullye and brought away.
Dub a dub, etc.

The Earl of Essex, most valiant and hardye.

With horsemen and footmen marched up to the town ;

The Spanyards, which saw them, were greatly alarmed.
Did fly for their savegard, and durst not come down.
Dub a dub, etc.

" Now," quoth the noble Earl, '^ courage my soldiers all.
Fight and be valiant, the spoil you shall have ;

And be well rewarded all from the great to the small ;
But looke that the women and children you save."
Dub a dub, etc.

The Spaniards at that sight, thinking it vain to fight,
Hung upp flags of truce and yielded the towne ;

Wee marched in presentlye, decking the walls on hye.
With English colours which purchased renowne.
Dub a dub, etc.

76 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Entering the houses then^ of the most richest men.
For gold and treasure we searched eche day ;

In some places w^ did find, pyes baking left behind,
Meate at fire rosting, and folkes run away.
Dub a dub, etc.

Full of rich merchandize, every shop catched our eyes.
Damasks and sattens and velvets full fayre ;

Which soldiers m^asur'd out by the length of their swords ;
Of all commodities eche had a share.
Dub a dub, etc.

Thus Cales was taken, and our brave general

March'd to the market-place, where he did stand :

There many prisoners fell to our several shares.
Many crav'd mercye, and mercye they fannd.
Dub a dub, etc.

When our brave General saw they delayed all.

And wold not ransome their towne as they said,
With their fair wanscots, their presses and bedsteads.
Their joint-stools and tables a fire we made ;
And when the town burned all in fiame.
With tara, tantara, away wee all came.

THE END OF THE LAST FIGHT OF

THE REVENGE

(September 11-14, 1591)

But when the morning's dewy locks drunk up

A misty moisture from the Ocean's face.

Then might he see the source of sorrow's cup.

Plainly prefigured in that hateful place :

And all the miseries that mortals sup

From their great grandsire Adam's band, disgrace ;

For all that did encircle him, was his foe,

And that encircled, model of true woe.

THE LAST FIGHT OF THE REVENGE 77

His masts were broken^ and his tackle tom^
His upper work hew'd down into the sea.
Naught of his ship above the surge was bom.
But even levelled with the Ocean lay.
Only the ship's foundation (yet that worn)
Remained a trophy in that mighty fray ;
Nothing at all above the head remained.
Either for covert, or that force maintained.

Powder for shot was spent and wasted clean.
Scarce seen a com to charge a piece withal.
All her pikes broken, half of his best men slain.
The rest, sore wounded, on Death's agents call.
On the other side, her foe in ranks remain.
Displaying multitudes, and store of all
Whatever might avail for victory.
Had they not wanted heart's true valiancy.

When Grenville saw his desperate dreaiy case.
Merely despoiled of all successful thought.
He calls before him all within the place.
The Master, Master-Gunner, and them taught
Rules of true hardiment to purchase grace ;
Shows them the end their travail's toil had bought.
How sweet it is, swift Fame to over-go.
How vile to dive in captive overthrow.

" Gallants," he saith, '^ since three o'clock last noon,
Untill this morning, fifteen hours by course.
We have maintained stout war, and still undone
Our foes assaults, and driven them to the worse.
Fifteen Armado's boardings have not won
Content or ease, but been repelled by force.
Eight hundred cannon shot against her side.
Have not our hearts in cowaid colours dyed.

.......

Since losing, we unlost keep strong our praise.
And make our glories gainers by our ends.
Let not the hope of hours (for tedious days
Unto our lives no longer circuit lends).

78 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Confound our wondered actions and assajrs^
Whereon the sweet of mortal ears depends^
But as we live by wills victorious^
So let us die victors of them and us.

• ••••••

And thus resolved^ since other mean is reft^
Sweet Master-Gunner^ split our keel in twain.
We cannot live, whom hope of life hath left.
Dying, our deaths more glorious lives retain.
Let not our ship, of shame and foil bereft.
Unto our foemen for a prize remain ;
Sink her, and sinking, with the Greek we'll cry,
Best not to be, or being soon to die."

Scarce had his words ta'en wings from his dear tongue.

But the stout Master-Gunner, ever rich

In heavenly valour and repulsing wrong.

Proud that his hands by action might enrich

His name and nation with a worthy song.

Towered his heart higher than eagle's pitch.

And instantly endeavours to effect

Grenville's desire, by ending Death's defect.

But the other Master, and the other Mates,
Dissented from the honour of their minds.
And humbly prayed the Knight to rue their states.
Whom misery to no such mischief binds ;
To him they allege great reasons, and dilates
Their foes amazements, whom their valour blinds.
And makes more eager t'entertaine a truce.
Than they to offer words for war's excuse.

They show him divers gallant men of might.
Where woimds, not mortal, gave hope of recure,
For their sakes sue they to divorce this night
Of desperate chance, called unto Death's black lure.
Their lengthened lives, their country's care might right.
And to their Prince they might good hopes assure.
Then quoth the Captain, '^ Dear Knight, do not spill
The lives whom Gods and Fates seek not to kilL

THE LAST FIGHT OF THE REVENGE 79

And where thou sayst the Spaniards shall not brave
T have ta'en one ship due to our virgin Queen,
O know, that they, nor all the world can save,
This wounded bark, whose like no age hath seen.
Six foot she leaks in hold, three shot beneath the wave.
All whose repair so insufficient been.
That when the sea shall angry work begin.
She cannot choose but sink and die therein.

Besides, the wounds and bruisings which she bears.

Are such, so many, so incurable.

As to remove her from this place of fears.

No force, no wit, no mean, nor man is able ;

Then since that peace prostrate to us repairs.

Unless our selves, our selves make miserable,

Herculean Knight, for pity, pity lend.

No fame consists in wilful desperate end."

• • • • • • .

O when Sir Richard saw them start aside.
More chained to life than to a glorious grave.
And those whom he so oft in dangers tried.
Now trembling seek their hateful lives to save.
Sorrow and rage, shame, and his honour's pride.
Choking his soul, madly compelled him rave.
Until his rage with vigour did confound
His heavy heart, and left him in a swound.

The Master-Gunner, likewise seeing Fate,

Bridle his fortune and his will to die.

With his sharp sword sought to set ope the gate.

By which his soul might from his body fly.

Had not his Mends perforce preserved his state.

And locked him in his cabin, safe to lie.

Whilst others swarmed where hapless Grenville lay.

By cries recalling life, late run away.

In this too restless turmoil of unrest.
The poor Revenge's Master stole away.
And to the Spanish Admiral addrest
The doleful tidings of this mournful day.

8o A SAILOR'S GARLAND

glie Spanish Admiral who then oppresst^
oveiing with doubt^ not daring t' end the fray^)
And pleads for truce^ with soldier-like submission^
Annexing to his words a straight condition.

Alonzo, willing to give end to arms^
For well he knew Grenville would never yield.
Able his power stood like unnumbered swarms,
Yet daring not on stricter terms to build,
He offers all what may allay their harms
Safety of lives, nor any thrall to wield.
Free from the galley, prisonment, or pain.
And safe return unto their soil again.

To this he yields, as well for his own sake.

Whom desperate hazard might endamage sore.

As for desire the famous Knight to take.

Whom in his heart he seemed to deplore.

And for his valour half a god did make.

Extolling him all other men before.

Admiring with an honourable heart.

His valour, wisdom, and his soldier's art.

. • ■ • . • •

Ba^an made proud, unconquering t' over-come,

Swore the brave Knight nor ship he would not lose.

Should all the world in a petition come :

And therefore of his gallants, forty chose.

To board Sir Richard, charging them be dumb

From threatening words, from anger, and from blows,

But with all kindbiess, honour, and admire

To bring him thence, to further Fame's desire.

Sooner they boarded not the crazed bark,
But they beheld where speechless Grenville lay.
All smeared in blood, and clouded in the dark.
Contagious curtain of Death's tragic day ;
They wept for pity, and yet silent mark
Whether his lungs sent living breath away.
Which, when they saw in airy blasts to fly.
They strived who first should staunch his misery.

THE LAST FIGHT OF THE REVENGE 8 1

Anon came life^ and lift his eyelids up^
Whilst they with tears denounce their Generars will.
Whose honoured mind ought to retort the cup
Of Death's sad poison, well instruckt to kill :
Tells him what fame and grace his eyes might sup
From Ba^an's kindness, and his surgeon's skill.
Both how he loved him, and admired his fame,
To which he sought to lend a living flame.

" Ay me/' quoth Grenville, " simple men, I know

My body to your General is a prey,

Take it, and as you please my limbs bestow,

For I respect it not, 'tis earth and clay ;

But for my mind that mightier much much doth grow

To Heaven it shall, despite of Spanish sway."

He swoimded and did never speak again.

This said, o'ercome with anguish and with pain.

They took him up, and to the General brought

His mangled carcass, but unmaimM mind.

Three days he breathed, yet never spake he ought.

Albeit his foes were humble, sad, and kind ;

Then forth came down the Lamb that all souls bought,

And his pure part, from worser parts refined.

Bearing his spirit up to the loffcy skies.

Leaving his body, wonder to wonder's eyes.

You powers of Heaven, rain honour on his hearse.
And tune the Cherubins to sing his fame.
Let infants in the last age him rehearse.
And let no more honour be Honour's name :
Let him that will obtain immortal verse.
Conquer the style of Grenville to the same.
For till that fire shall all the world consume,
Shall never name, with Grenville' s name presume.

Rest then, dear soul, in thine all-resting place.
And take my tears for trophies to thy tomb.
Let thy lost blood, thy unlost fame increase.
Make kingly ears thy praise's second womb :

82 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

That when all tongues to all reports surcease.
Yet shall thy deeds outlive the day of doom.
For even Angels in the Heavens shall sing,
Grenville unconquered died, still conquering.

lUinam,

Gkrvase Markham

DRAKE'S DRUM

Drake he's in his hammock an' a thousand mile away,

(Capten, art tha sleepin* there below ?)
Slung atween the round shot in Nombre Dios Bay,

An' dreamin' arl the time o' Plymouth Hoe.
Yamder lumes the Island, yamder lie the ships,

Wi' sailor lads a-dancin* heel-an'-toe.
An' the shore-lights flashin', an' the night-tide dashin'.

He sees et arl so plainly as he saw et long ago.

Drake he was a Devon man, an' ruled the Devon seas,

(Capten, art tha sleepin' there below ?),
Rovin' tho' his death fell, he went wi' heart at ease.
An' dreamin' arl the time o' Pl3nxLouth Hoe.
Take my drum to England, hang et by the shore.
Strike et when your powder's runnin' low ;
If the Dons sight Devon, I'll quit the port o' Heaven,
An' drum them up the Channel as we drummed them
long ago.'

Drake he's in his hammock till the great Armadas come,

(Capten, art tha sleepin' there below ?),
Slung atween the round shot, listenin' for the drum.

An* dreamin' arl the time o' Plymouth Hoe.
Call him on the deep sea, call him up the Sound,

Call him when ye sail to meet the foe ;
Where the old trade's pl3rin* an' the old flag flyin'.

They shall find him ware an' wakin', as they found him
long ago !

Henry Newbolt

DRAKE AND HAWKINS 83

THE LAST VOYAGE OF SIR FRANCIS
DRAKE, AND SIR JOHN HAWKINS

When AS a Royal fleets with joyful minds^

(O how mishap is nearest still to joy)

Daring their hopes and lives to sea and winds^

SVo trustless treasurers fiill of annoy)
id toward the Western Ind their course employ ;
Whose guide to Drake and Hawkins was assign'd^
When they went forth^ O who would stay behind ?

Whether to win from Spain what was not Spain's,

Or to acquit us of sustained wrong,

Or intercept their Indian hoped gains.

Thereby to weaken them and make us strong ;

Here to discuss to me doth not belong :

Yet if grief may say truth by nature's laws,
111 was th' effect, how good so e*er the cause.

Now are they on the seas resolved to prove
The mercy of a mercy-wanting wave :
England behind them lies, there lies their love ;
Before them and about them air they have,
And sometimes foggy mists their sight bereave ;

Beneath them, seas ; above them skies they find ;

Seas full of waves, skies threatening storms and
wind.

Thus still ambiguous 'twixt fear and hope.
Fear in the storms and hope in calmer tide ;
Passing Saint Michael's promontory top.
At length the bay of Portingale they spied.
Where not determining long time to abide.

Again they venture in their danger's source,
And to the Grand Canaries bend their course.

Now pass in silence, O my drooping pen.
So many famous towns and ports passed by.
Some took, some burnt, some unassaulted then.
As that Port Rico, place of misery.

84 A SAILORS GARLAND

Where (O !) great Hawkins and brave Clifford lie :
The taking of the city Hatch conceal^
Nor many other brave attempts reveal.

Only two base ignoble places tell^
Famous for nothing but for death and dread ;
Where (O I) that^ which my muse laments^ befell^
The stages where our tragedy was played^
Th' one Scudo, th' other Portobella said :

Both to be razed out of memory

But for memorial of this tragedy.

wherefore should so many famous places^
Worthy eternal memory of fame^

Be here concealed unworthy such disgraces^
And these two should be registered by name^
Though mmtorious of eternal blame ?

But some are sometime named to their shames^
And therefore must I tell these places names.

Whether of both was in the greatest faulty

1 know not^ nor I care not much to know :
(Far deeper passions now my mind assault i)
Thus much I know (O that I knew not so !)
Both jointly joined to aggravate our woe ;

Since he on whom his country's hope relied,
At Scudo sickened, at Port Bella died.
.......

He that the bravest captain was accounted
Boldly to encounter with the proudest foe :
Now from his stately courser is dismounted.
And hath by death received an overthrow.
Unto the world's inconsolable woe ;

The tournament turned to lamenting fears.
And all the triumphs into ruthful tears.
.......

What say they ? Death doth grief and sorrow end ?
O how they are deceived in saying so !
Death only did this grief and sorrow send ;
Death was the only agent of our woe.

DRAKE AND HAWKINS 85

Death was our dreary and our dismal foe :

For hath not death himself subdued Drake^
The world beside could not him captive make.

This only comfort is unto us left^
(O simple comfort in so great distress !)
That no proud Spaniard hath his life bereft^
No man may boast he caused our wretchedness^
Nor triumph he subdued earth's worthiness :
But only death our treasure hath bereven
And that was due to earth he gave to heaven.

• .•■•••
As one that vows a solemn pilgrimage

To some canonised saint's religious shrine^

Doth leave his solitaiy hermitage.

And with a new incensed zeal divine.

Unto devotion doth his mind incline ;

Passing the way and day in meditation
Beguiling both with holy contemplation.

At length with over-tired tedious race,

Alway invoking Saints successive aid,

Arriveth at the sanctified place.

Where after all his orisons are s^id.

And due oblations to the saint are paid ;
Ravished in spirit with devoted zeal.
Becomes a priest and will not home repeal.

So Drake the pilgrim of the world intending
A vowed voyage unto honour's shrine.
At length his pilgrimage in heaven had ending.
Where ravished with the joys more than divine.
That in the temple of the Gods do shine ;
There did a never dying life renew.
Bidding base earth, and all the world, adieu.

• •■•••.
We weep in vain because for him we weep.
Since he with saints in thought-surmounting joy.
At Jove's great festival doth revel keep.
Where neither scarcity doth him annoy.

86 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Nor loathed satiety his mind accloy :

O since that he from us is gone to bliss^
We do lament our omi mishi^^ not his.

• ••••••

Spain^ clap thy hands^ while we our hands do wring.
And while we weep, laugh thou at our distress,
While we do sob and sigh, sit thou and sing.
Smile thou, while we lament with heaviness.
While we our gri^, do thou thy joy express.

Since he who made us triumph, and thee quake.
Hath ceased to live ; O most victorious Drake !

• ••••••

Known to the heavens by honour long before,
Now by the presence of the immortal soul,

O new-made saint, (for now a man no more)
Admit my tender infant Muse to enroll
Thy name in honour's everlasting scroll :

What though thy praises cannot live by me ?

Yet may I hope to live by praising thee.

• ••••••

Phoebus himself shall chronicle thy fame.

And of a radiant sunbeam make the pen ;

The ink the milk whence Via Lactea came ;

The empyrean heaven, the volume shall be then ;

To register the miracle of men :

The sun and moon the letters capital
The stars the commas €uiid the periods all.

Jove's silver footHStool shall be library

That shall their acts and monuments contain ;

Which that they may to after ages tarry

And as a true memorial still remain.

Eternity is the adamantine chain

And that the heavens still on Drake's praise may look.
The gods shall read and saints peruse the book.

Quis Martem tunica tectum adamantina
Digne scripserit ?

Charles Frrz-GsFFERY

TO THE VIRGINIAN VOYAGE 87

FROM ALBION'S ENGLAND

Of world-admired Drake (for of his worth what argues

more,
Than Fame envied? some, for was his so rich thought

theirs to poor).
And his brave breeder Hawkins (yet be honoured everjr pen.
That, howsoever, honour them as high-resolv6d men)
In fiction, or in mystery, to read would less delight
Than would significantly some their glorious journeys

write:
The pains of such invited pens such subject would requite.
Add Gilbert, Grenville, Frobisker, of knights to make up five.
All in their better parts with God, with men their fames

alive :
Add ChiUon, Oxnam, FerUon, Ward, Davis, another Drake,
With divers here not catalogued, and for a chiefest take
All-actious Candish, and of these eternal pen-work make.

Omitted men, and named men, and lands (not here, indeed.
So written of as they deserve) at large in Hakluyt read.

William Warner

TO THE VIRGINIAN VOYAGE

You brave heroic minds.
Worthy your country's name.
That honour still pursue.

Whilst loitering hinds
Lurk here at home, with shame.

Go, and subdue.

Britons, you stay too long.
Quickly abroad bestow you.
And with a merry gale

Swell your stretched sail.

With vows as strong.
As the winds that blow you.

88 A SAILORS GARLAND

Your course securely steer^
West and by south forth keep^
Rocks^ lee-shores^ nor shoals.
When Eolus scoivls,
You need not fear.
So absolute the deep.

And cheerfully at sea.
Success you still entice,
To get the pearl and gold,

And ours to hold

Virginia,
Earth's only Paradise.

Where Nature hath in store
Fowl, venison, and fish.
And the fruitfuFst soil,
Without your toil.
Three harvests more
All greater than your wish.

And the ambitious vine
Crowns with his purple mass.
The cedar reaching high

To kiss the sky ;

The cypress, pine.
And useful sassafras.

To whose, the golden age
Still Nature's laws doth give.
No other cares that tend.
But them to defend
From winter's rage
That long there doth not live.

When as the luscious smell
Of that delicious land.
Above the seas that flows.
The clear wind throws.
Your hearts to swell
Approaching the dear strand.

THE HONOUR OF BRISTOL 89

In kenning of the shore
(Thanks to God first given)
O you^ the happiest men^

Be frolic then^

Let cannons roar
Frighting the wide heaven.

And in regions far

Such heroes bring ye forth.

As those from whom we came.

And plant our name

Under that star
Not known unto our north.

And as there plenty grows
Of laurel everywhere,
Apollo's sacred tree,

You it may see,

A poet's brows
To crown, that may sing there.

Thy voyages attend.
Industrious Hakluyt,
Whose reading shall inflame

Men to seek fame.

And much commend
To after-times thy wit.

Michael Drayton

THE HONOUR OF BRISTOL

Attend you and give ear awhile.

And you shall understand.
Of a Battle fought upon the Sea,

By a Ship of Command ;
The fight it was so famous.

That all Men's Hearts do fill.
And makes them cry, " To Sea

With the Angel Gabriel"

90 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

The lusty ship of Bristol,

Sail'd out adventurously.
Against the Foes of England,

Their strength with them to try :
Well victual'd, ng'd, and mann'd.

With good Provision still.
Which mieule them cry, " To Sea

With the Angel GabrieL"

The Captain, famous Netheway,

So he was call'd hy name.
The Master's name John Mints,

A man of noted Fame :
The Gunner Thomas Watson,

A Man of perfect Skill,
With other valiant Hearts

In the Angel Gabriel,

They, waiving up and down the Seas,
Upon the Ocean Main,
It is not long ago," quoth they.
Since lEjigl&nd fought with Spain,
Would we with them might meet

Our minds Jor to fulfil.
We would plmf a noble Bout
With our Angel Gabnel."

They had no sooner spoken.

But straight appear'd in sight.
Three lusty Spanish vessels.

Of warlike Force and Might ;
With bloody Resolution,

They fought our Blood to spill.
And vow'd to make a Prize

Of our Angel Gabriel.

Then first came up their Admiral,
Themselves for to advance.

In her she bore full forty-eight
Pieces of Ordnance ;

THE HONOUR OF BRISTOL 91

The next that then came near ns.

Was the Vice-Admiral,
Which shot most furiously.

At the Angel Gabriel.

Our gallant Ship had in her

Full forty fighting Men,
With twenty pieces of Ordnance,

We play'd about them then ;
And with Powder, Shot, and Bullets,

We did employ them still.
And thus began the Fight

With our Angel Gabriel,

Our Captain to our Master said,

" Take courage, Master bold,"
The Master to the Seamen said,

" Standfast, my Hearts of Gold ; "
The Gunner, unto all the rest,

^' Brave hearts, be valiant still.
Let us fight in the Defence ^

Of our Angel Gabriel"

Then we gave them a Broadside,

Which shot their Mast asunder.
And tore the Bow Spret of their Ship,

Which made the Spaniards wonder ;
And caused them to cry.

With voices loud and shrill,
" Help, help, or else we sink

By the Angel Gabriel"

Yet desperately they boarded us.

For all our valiant Shot,
Three score of their best fighting Men,

Upon our Decks were got ;
And then, at their first entrance.

Full thirty did we kill ;
And thus we cleared the decks

Of the Angel Gabriel,

92 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

With that^ their three ships boarded us.

Again with might and main.
But still our noble Englishmen

Cry'd out, « A Jig for Spain J "
Though seven times they boarded us.

At last we shew'd our skill,
And made them feel the Force

Of our Angel Gabriel,

Seven hours this Fight continued.

And many Men lay dead,
With purple Gore, and Spanish blood.

The Sea was coloured red ;
Five hundred of their Men,

We there, outright, did kill.
And many more were maim*d

Bi^ the Angel Gabriel.

They, seeing of these bloody Spoils,

The rest made haste away.
For why, they saw it was no boot.

Any longer for to stay ;
Then they fled into Cales,

And there they must lye still.
For they never more will dare to meet

With our Angel Gabriel,

We had within our English Ship

But only three Men slain.
And five men hurt, the which I hope

Will soon be well again ;
At Bristol we were landed.

And let us praise God still.
That thus hath blest our Men,

And our Angel Gabriel,

Now let me not forget to speak
Of the Gift giv'n by the Owner

Of the Angel Gabriel,
That many years had known her ;

FROM BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS 93

Two hundred Pounds in Coin and Plate^

He gave with free good will.
Unto them that bravely fought

In the Angel GabrieL

FROM BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS

Time never can produce men to o'ertake
The fames of Grenville, Davies, Gilbert, Drake,
Or worthy Hawkins, or of thousands more
That by their power made the Devonian shore
Mock the proud Tagus ; for whose richest spoil
The boasting Spaniard lefl the Indian soil
Bankrupt of store, knowing it would quit cost
By winning this, though all the rest were lost.
As oft the sea-nymphs on her strand have set.
Learning of fishermen to knit a net.
Wherein to wind up their dishevelled hairs.
They have beheld the frolic mariners
For exercise (got early from their beds)
Pitch bars of silver, and cast golden sleds.

Where Plym and Tamar with embraces meet,
Thetis weighs anchor now, and all her fleet ;
Leaving that spacious Sound, within whose arms
I have those vessels seen, whose hot alarms
Have made Iberia tremble, and her towers
Prostrate themselves before our iron showers ;
While their proud builders' hearts have been inclined
To shake, as our brave ensigns, with the wind.
. ■•.•..

O by heroes were we led of yore.
And by our drums that thunder d on each shore,
Struck with amazement countries far and near ;
Whilst their inhabitants, like herds of deer
By kingly lions chased, fled from our arms.
If any did oppose instructed swarms
Of men immail'd. Fate drew them on to be
A greater fame to our got victory.

94 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Bat now our leaden want ; those vessels lie
Rotting^ like houses through ill-husbandry ;
And on their masts, where oft the ship-boy stood.
Or silver trumpets charmed the brackish flood.
Some wearied crow is set ;

and daily seen
Their sides, instead of pitch, caulked o'er with green.

Ill-hap (alas) have you that once were known
By reaping what was by Iberia sown.
By bringing yellow sheaves from out their |dain.
Making our bams the storehouse for their grain ;

When now as if we wanted land to till.
Wherewith we might our useless soldiers fill ;
Upon their hatches where half-pikes were borne.
In eveiy chink rise stems of bearded com :
Mocking our idle times that so have wrought us.
Or putting us in mind what once they brought us.

William Browne

AN EPIGRAM UPON HIS MAJESTIES GREAT
SHIP (THE SOVEREIGN OF THE SEAS)
LYING IN THE DOCKS AT WOOLWICH

What artist took in hand this ship to frame ?

Or who can guess from whence these tall oaks came ?

Unless from the full grown Dodonian grove,

A wilderness sole sacred unto Jove.

What eye such brave materials hath beheld ?
Or by what axes were these timbers felled ?
Sure Vulcan with his three Cyclopean swains.
Have forged new metals from their active brains.
Or else, that hatchet he hath grinded new.
With which he cleft Jove's skull, what time out-flew
The armed virago, Pallas, who inspires
With Art, with Science, and all high desires
She hath (no doubt) raptured our undertaker
This machine to devise first, and then make her.

AN EPIGRAM 95

How else could such a mighty mole be raised ?
To which Troy's horse (by Virgil so much pndsed.
Whose bulk a thousand anned men contained)
Was but a toy (compared) and that too feigned.
For she bears thrice his burden^ hath room, where
Elnceladus might rowe, and Triton steer :
But no such vessel could for them be made.
Had they intent by sea the gods to invade.
The Argo, stellified because 'twas rare.
With this ship's long-boat scarcely might compare.

Yet sixty Greek Heroes even in that
With oars in hand, upon their transtrae sat.
Her anchors, beyond weight, ezpanst and wide,
Able to wrestle against wind and tide :
Her big wrought cable like that massy chain
With which great Xerxes bounded in the main
'Tweene Sestos and Abydos, to make one
Europe and Asia, by that line alone.
Her five bright lanterns lustre round the seas.
Shining like five of the seven Hyades :
Whose clear eyes, should they, by oft weeping, fail
By these, our seamen might find Art to sail
In one of which (which bears the greatest light)
Ten of the guard at once may stand upright :
What a conspicuous ray did it dart then ?
What more than a Titanian lustre, when
Our Phoebus, and bright Cynthia jointly sphered
In that one orb, together both appeared :
With whom seven other stars had then their station.
All luminous, but lower, constellation
That lamp, the great Colosse held, who bestrid
The spacious Rhodian sea-arm, never did
Cast such a beam, yet ships of tallest size.
Past, with their masts erect, between his thighs.
Her main mast like a Pyramis appears.
Such as the Egyptian Kings were many years.
To their great charge, erecting, whilst their pleasure
To mount them high, did quite exhaust their treasure.
Whose brave top-top-U^ royal nothing bars,
By day, to brush the sun, by night the stars.

96 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Her mainsail (if I do not much mistake)
For Amphitrite might a kirtle make :
Or in the heat of summer be a fan
To cool the face of the great ocean.

She being angry^ if she stretch her lungs^
Can rail upon her enemy^ with more tongues
(Louder than Stentor's^ as her spleen shall rise)
Than ever Juno's Argus saw with eyes.
I should but lose my self^ and craze my brain^
Striving to give this glory of the main
A full description^ though the Muses nine
Should quaff to me in rich Mendaeum wine.
Then O you marine gods^ who with amaze^
On this stupendous work (emergent) gaze.
Take charge of her^ as being a choice gem^
That much outvalue's Neptune's diadem.

Thomas Heywood (1629 ?)

THE FAMOUS FIGHT AT MALAGO

Or the Englishmen's Victory over the Spaniards

Come all you brave sailors

That sails on the main^
I'll tell you of a fight

That was lately in Spain ;
And of Bye sail of frigates

Bound to Malago^
For to fight the proud Spaniards^

Our orders was so.

There was the Henry and Ruby

And the Antelope also^
The Greyhound and the Bryan

For fireships must go ;
But so bravely we weighed.

And played our parts
That we made the proud Spaniards

To quake in their hearts.

THE FAMOUS FIGHT AT MALA60 97

Then we came to an anchor

So nigh to the Mould,
" Methinks you proud English

Do grow very bold " ;
But we came to an anchor

So near to the town,
That some of their churches

We soon battered down.

They hung out their flag of truce,

For to Imow our intent.
And they sent out their longboat

To know what we meant ;
But our Captain he answered

Them bravely, it was so,
" For to bum all your shipping

Before we do go."

'* For to bum all our shipping

You must us excuse,
'Tis not five sail of frigates

Shall make us to muse ; "
But we burnt all their shipping

And their gallies also,
• And we left in the city

Full many a widow.

" Come then," says our Captain,

" Let's fire at the church,"
And down came their belfry.

Which grieved them much ;
And down came the steeple.

Which standeth so high.
Which made the proud Spaniards

To the nunnery fly.

So great a confusion

Was made in the town.
That their lofty buildings

Came tumbling down ;

98 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Their wives and their children
For help they did crjr.

But none could relieve them
Though danger was nigh.

The flames and the smoke^

So increased their woe^
That they knew not whither

To run nor to go ;
Some to shun the fire

Leapt into the flood.
And there they did perish

In water and mud.

Our guns we kept firing,

Still shooting amain.
Whilst many a proud Spaniard

Was on the place slain ;
The rest being amaz^

For succour did cry.
But all was in vain.

They had nowhere to fly.

At length, being forced,

They thought it most fit.
Unto the brave English men

For to submit ;
And so a conclusion

At last we did make.
Upon such conditions

As was fit to take.

The Spanish Armado

Did England no harm,
Twas but a bravado

To give us alarm ;
But with our five frigates

We did them bumbaste.
And made them of Englishmen's

Valour to taste.

VICTORY BY ADMIRAL BLAKE 99

When this nohle victory

We did ohtain^
Then home we returned

To England again ;
When we were received

With welcomes of joy,
Because with five frigates

We did them destroy.

ON THE VICTORY OBTAINED BY ADMIRAL

BLAKE

Over the Spaniards, in the Bay or Santa Cruz in
THE Island of Teneriffe^ 1657

Now does Spain's fleet her spacious wings unfold^
Leaves the new worlds and hastens for the old ;
But though the wind was fair^ they slowly swum^
Freighted with acted guilty and guilt to come ;
For this rich load^ of which so proud they are^
Was raised by tyranny^ and raised for war.
Every capacious galleon's womb was filled
With what the womb of wealthy kingdoms yield ;
The new world's wounded entrails they had tore.
For wealth wherewith to wound the old once more ;
Wealth which all other's avarice might cloy,
But yet in them caused as much fear, as joy.
For now upon the main themselves they saw
That boundless empire, where you give the law ;
Of wind's and water's rage they feaaful be.
But much more fearful are your flags to see.
Day, that to those who sail upon the deep.
More wished for and more welcome is than sleep.
They dreaded to behold, lest the sun's light.
With English streamers should salute their sight :
In thickest darkness they would choose to steer.
So that such darkness might suppress their fear :
At length it vanishes, and fortune smiles.
For they behold the sweet Canary isles,

I02 A SAILORS GARLAND

For your renown, the conquering fleet does ride.
O'er seas as vast as is the Spaniard's pride.
Whose fleet and trenches viewed, you soon did say.
We to their strength are more obliged than they ;
Wer't not for that, they from their fate would run.
And a third world seek out, our arms to shun.
Those forts, which there so high and strong appear.
Do not so much suppress, as show their fear.
Of speedy victory let no man doubt.
Our worst work passed, now we have found them out.
Behold their navy does at anchor lie.
And they are ours, for now they cannot fly.

This said, the whole fleet gave it their applause.
And all assume your courage, in your cause.
That bay they enter, which unto them owes
The noblest wreaths which victory bestows ;
Bold Stanier leads ; this fleet's designed by fate
To give him laurel, as the last did plate.

The thundering cannon now begins the fight.
And, though it be at noon, creates a night ;
The air was soon, after the fight begun.
Far more enflamed by it, than by the sun.
Never so burning was that climate known ;
War turned the temperate, to the torrid zone.

Fate these two fleets, between both worlds, had
brought.
Who fight, as if for both those worlds they sought.
Thousands of ways, thousands of men there die.
Some ships are sunk, some blown up in the sky.
Nature ne'er made cedars so high aspire
As oaks did then, urged by the active fire
Which, by quick powder's force, so high was sent
That it returned to its own element.
Tom limbs some leagues into the island fly.
Whilst others lower, in the sea, do He ;

VICTORY BY ADMIRAL BLAKE 103

Scarce souls from bodies severed are so far
By deaths as bodies there were by the war.
The all-seeing sun ne'er gazed on such a sights
Two dreadful navies there at anchor fight^
And neither have^ or power, or will, to fly ;
There one must conquer, or there both must die.
Far different motives yet engaged them thus.
Necessity did them, but choice did us,
A choice which did the highest worth express,
And was attended by as high success ;
For your resistless genius there did reign,
By which we laurels reaped e'en on the main.
So prosperous stars, though absent to the sense.
Bless those they shine for by their influence.

Our cannon now tears every ship and sconce.
And o'er two elements triumphs at once.
Their galleons sunk, their wealth the sea does fill.
The only place where it can cause no ill.

Ah ! would those treasures which both Indias have
Were buried in as large, and deep a grave !
War's chief support with them would buried be.
And the land owe her peace unto the sea.
Ages to come your conquering arms will bless.
There they destroyed what had destroyed their peace ;
And in one war the present age may boast.
The certain seeds of many wars are lost.

All the foe's ships destroyed by sea or fire.
Victorious Blake does from the bay retire.
His siege of Spain he then again pursues.
And there first brings of his success the news :
The saddest news that e'er to Spain was brought.
Their rich fleet sunk, and ours with laurel fraught.
Whilst fame in every place her trumpet blows.
And tells the world how much to you it owes.

Andrew Marvell

I04 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

THE EPITAPH ACROSTICK ON
ROBERT BLAKE

R EST here in Peace the sacred Dust

O f valiant Blake^ the good, the just,

B elov'd of all on every side,

E ngland's honour, once her pride,

R ome's terror, Dutch annoyer,

T ruth's defender, Spain's destroyer.

B ring no dry eyes unto this place :
L et not be seen in any case
A smiling or an unsad face.
K indie desires in every breast
E temally with him to rest.

Georoe Harrisom

On board the Dundar in the Downs, Aug. ii, 1657.

THE ROYAL VICTORY

Obtained (with the Providence op Almighty God^

AGAINST THE DuTCH FlEET, JuNE 2ND AND SrD, 1665

Let Englandy and Ireland, and Scotland rejoice.

And render thanksgiving with heart and with voice.
That surly Fanatick that now will not sing.
Is false to the Kingdom, and Foe to the King ;
For he that will grutch,
Our Fortune is sutch.
Doth deal for the Devil, as well as the Dutch ;
For why should my nature or conscience repine.
At taking of his life, that fain would have mine.

So high a Victory we could not command.
Had it not been gain'd by an Almighty hand,
The great Lord of Battels did perfect this work.
For God and the King, and the good Duke of York ;

THE ROYAL VICTORY 105

Whose courage was such

Against the Low Dutch,
That vapour'd and swagger'd^ like Lords in a Jiatch ;
But^ let the bold Hollander bom, sink^ or swim.
They have honour enough to be beaten by him.

Fire^ Aire^ Earth, and Water, it .seems were imployed.
To strive for the Conquest which we have injoy'd.
No honour, or profit, or safety can spring.
To those who do fight against God and the Kin^ ;

The Battel was hot.

And bloudily fought.
Hie Fire was like Rain, and like Hail was ye Shot,
For in this Ingagement ten thousand did bleed
Of FUmmings, who now are ye Low Dutch indeed.

In this cruel Conflict stout Opdam was slain.
By the great Duke of York, and lyes sunk in ye Main,
'Twas from ye Duke's Frigat that he had his doome,
And by the Duke's Valour he was overcome ;

It was his good Fate,

To fall at that Rate,
Who sink under Princes, are buried in State.
Since Valour and Courage in one grave must lye.
It is a great honour by great hands to dye.

That gallant bold fellow, ye Son of Van Trump,
Whose brains were beat out by the head of the Rump,
Ingaging with Holmes, a brave Captain of ours.
Retreated to Neptune* s salt, waterie bowers :

His Fate was grown grim.

He no longer could swim.
But he that caught Fishes, now Fishes catch him.
They eat up our Fish, without Reason or Lawes,
But now they are going to pay for the Sawce.

To mock at men's miserie is not my aime.
It never can add to an Englishman s fame.
But I may rejoyce that the Battel is woun.
Because in the Victory, God's will is done ;

io6 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Whose Justice appears
In such great affairs^
Who will for Amboifia plague them and their Heirs^
For he that did comber his conscience with gilt^
In shedding of bloody his own shall be spilt

In this cruel Contest (our fortune was such).

We tooke seventeen Men-of-War from the Dutch,

And likewise (as then the occasion required

And as God would have it) fourteen more were fir'd :

At Amboina, when

They Tortur'd our Men,
They look'd not to have the same paid them agen.
With Fire and with Water their Sinews they crack't.
In Fire and in Water they dy'd for the Fact.

According as our God of Battel commanded,
The best of their Vessels were Fir'd and Stranded,
All Ships, Men-of-War ; for what Power hath Man
To fight with that Army, when Crod leads ye Van :

They Steere and they Stem,

But 'twas so extream.
But men were neer dying, with killing of them ;
Th^ lost, when ye Muskets and Cannons so thunder'd.
Twice so many Thousand, as we have lost hundred.

'Twould make a brave Englishman's heart leap to see't.
But forty Ships made an escape of their Fleet,
Which our Men pursue with much courage and strength,
'Tis doubtless but we shall surprize them at length :

If God be our guide.

And stand by our side.
We shall be befriended with fair Wind and Tide,
If Providence prosper us with a good gale.
The Dutch, nor the Devil shall ever prevaile.

Prince Rupert, like lightning flew through their Fleet,
Like Flame mix'd with Powder, their Army did meet.
Ten thousand slain Bodies the Ocean ore spread.
That in few hours distance, were living and dead ;

THE SECOND OF NOVEMBER 107

Their Admirals all^

Save one there did fall^
And Death had command like a Chief General ;
Brave Smith in the Mary did shave out his way
As Reapers do Wheats or as Mowers do Hay.

Stout Latvson and Minn there did play both their parts,
Who emptied their Guns in their Enemies' hearts^
The burly fat Dutchmen being cut out in Slips^
The Vessels did look more like Shambles than Ships,

God prosper the Fleete,

And send they may meet
De Ruiter to make up the Conquest compleat,
God bless all the Princes, and every thing
That fights for ye Kingdom and prayes for ye King.

THE SECOND OF NOVEMBER

It was one November — ^the second day —

The admiral he bore away.

Intending for his native shore.

The wind at sou'-sou'-west did roar ;

There was likewise a terrible sky.

Which made the sea to run mountains high.

The tide of ebb it was not done.
But fiercely to the west did run ;
Which put us all in terrible fear.
Because there was not room for to veer.
The wind and weather increased sore.
And drove ten sail of us on shore.

Ashore went the Northumberland,

The Harwich, and the Cumberland,

The Lion and the Warwick too ;

But the Elisabeth had the most to rue —

She came stem on — ^her fore->foot broke.

And she sank the Gloucester at one stroke.

I08 A SAILORS GARLAND

And now remains what is worse to tell.
The greatest ships had the greatest knell ;
The brave C'ronatian and all her men
Was lost and drowned every one.
Except the mate and eighteen more
What in the long boat com'd ashore.

And thus they lost their precious lives ;
But the greatest loss was to their wives.
Who, with their children left on shore,
Their husbands' watery death deplore.
And wept their loss with many tears —
(But grief endureth not for years).

Now you who've a mind to go to sea.
Pray take a useful hiat from me,
And live at home, and be content
With what kind Providence has sent ;
For they were punish'd for their misdeeds.
In grumbling when they had no needs.

Now Grod preserve our noble Queen,
Likewise her Ministers serene ;
And may they ever steer a course
To make things better 'stead of worse.
And England's flag triumphant fly.
The dread of every enemy.

ADMIRAL BENBOW

Oh, we sail'd to Virginia, and thence to Fyal,
Where we water'd our Shipping, and so then weigh'd all ;
Full in view on the sea, boys, seven sail we did espy.
So we hoisted our topsails, and sail'd speedily.

O we drew up our Squadron in a very nice line.
And we fought them courageously for four hours' time ;
But the day being spent, and the night coming on.
We let them alone till the darkness was gone.

THE DEATH OF ADMIRAL BENBOW 109

The very next morning the engagement proVd hot^
And brave Admiral Benbow received a chain-shot ;
O when he was womided^ to his merry men he did say^
'' Take me up in your arms^ boys^ and carry me away. '

O the guns they did rattle^ and the bullets did fly^
While brave Admiral Benbow for help loud did cry^
** Carry me down to the Cockpit^ there is ease for my smarts^
If my merry men should see me, 'twouM sure break their
hearts."

The very next morning, by the break of the day.

We hoisted our topsails, and so bore away ;

We sailed for Port Royal where the people flocked much

To see brave Admiral Benbow carried to Kingston Church.

Come all you brave fellows wheresoever you have been.
Let us drink a good health to the King and the Queen ;
And another good health to the girls that we know.
And a third in remembrance of brave Admiral Benbow.

THE DEATH OF ADMIRAL BENBOW

(To the tvme of Samuel Hall, or As I Sailed)

Come all you sailors bold.

Lend an ear,
Come all you sailors bold.

Lend an ear :
'Tis of our Admiral's fame.
Brave Benbow called by name.
How he fought on the main

You shall hear.

Brave Benbow he set sail

For to fight.
Brave Benbow he set sail

For to fight :

no A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Brave Benbow he set sail^
With a fine and pleasant gale^
But his captains they turned tail
In a fight

Says Kirkby unto Wade,

« I will run/'
Says Kirkby unto Wade,

** I will run :
I value not disgrace,
Nor the losing of my place,
My foes I will not face

With a gun."

'Twas the Ruby and Noah's Ark,

Fought the French,
'Twas the Rubi^ and Noah's Ark,

Fought the French :
And there was ten in all,
Poor souls they fought them all.
They recked them not at all

Nor their noise.

It was our Admiral's lot.

With a chain-shot.
It was our Admiral's lot.

With a chain-shot :
Our Admiral lost his legs.
And to his men he begs
*' Fight on, my boys," he says,

" 'Tis my lot."

While the surgeon dressed his wounds.

Thus he said.
While the surgeon dressed his wounds,

Thus he said,
'^ Let my cradle now in haste
On the quarter-deck be placed,
That the Frenchmen I may face,**

TiU I'm dead."

ADMIRAL HOSIER'S GHOST 1 1 1

And there bold Benbow lay^

Crying out^
And there bold Benbow lay^

Crying out :
" O let us tack once more^
We'll drive them to the shore^
As our fathers did before

LfOng ago."

ADMIRAL HOSIER'S GHOST

" Was a party song written by the ingenious author oiLeonidas, on the
taking of Porto Bello from the Spsuiiards by Admiral Vernon, 22nd
November 1739. The case of Hosier, which is here so pathetically
represented, was briefly this: In April 1726, that commander was
sent with a strong fleet into the Spanish West Indies, to block up the
galleons in the ports of that country, or, should they presume to come
out, to seize and carry them into England ; he accordingly arrived at the
Bastimentos, near Porto Bello, but being employed rather to overawe
than to attack the Spaniards, with whom it was probably not our interest
to go to war, he continued long inactive on that station, to his own
great regret. He afterwards removed to Carthagena, and remained
cruising in those seas, till far the greater part of his men perished
deplorably by the diseases of that unhealthy climate. This brave man,
seeing his best officers and men thus daily swept away, his ships exposed
to inevitable destruction, and himself made me sport of the enemy, is
said to have died of a broken heart. Such is the account of SmoUett,
compared with that of other less partial writers." — Bishop Percy's Note,

As near Porto Bello lying

On the gently swelling flood.
At midnight with streamers flying

Our triumphant navy rode :
There while Vernon sate all-glorious

From the Spaniards' late defeat :
And his crews, with shouts victorious,

Drank success to England's fleet :

On a sudden shrilly sounding,

Hideous yells and shrieks were heard ;

Then each heart with fear confounding,
A sad troop of ghosts appear'd.

112 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

All in dreary hammocks shrouded.
Which for winding-sheets they wore.

And with looks by sorrow ck>uded
Frowning on that hostile shore.

On them gleam'd the moon's wan lustre.

When the shade of Hosier brave
His pale bands were seen to muster.

Rising from their watry grave.
O'er the glimmering wave he hy'd him.

Where the Burford ^ rear'd her sail.
With three thousand ghosts beside him.

And in groans did Vernon hail.

Heed, oh heed our fatal story,

I am Hosier's injur'd ghost.
You who now have purchas'd glory

At this place where I was lost !
Tho' in Porto Bello's ruin

You now triumph free from fears.
When you think on our undoing.

You will mix your joy with tears.

See these mournful spectres sweeping

Ghastly o'er this hated wave.
Whose wan cheeks are stain'd with weeping ;

These were English captains brave.
Mark those numbers pale and horrid.

Those were once my sailors bold :
Lo, each hangs his drooping forehead,

While his dismal tale is told.

I, by twenty sail attended.

Did this Spanish town affright ;
Nothing then its wealth defended

But my orders not to fight.
Oh ! that in this rolling ocean

I had cast them with disdain,
And obey'd my heart's warm motion

To have quell'd the pride of Spain !

^ Admiral Vernon's ship.

ADMIRAL HOSIER'S GHOST IJ3

For resistance I could fear none^

But with twenty ships had done
What thou^ brave and happy Vernon^

Hast achieved with six alone.
Then the Bastimentos never

Had our foul dishonour seen.
Nor the sea the sad receiver

Of this gallant train had been.

Thus, like thee, proud Spain dismaying.

And her galleons leading home.
Though condemned for disobeying,

I had met a traitor's doom.
To have fallen, my country crying

He has play'd an English part.
Had been better far than dying

Of a griev'd and broken heart

Unrepining at thy glory.

Thy successful arms we hail ;
But remember our sad story.

And let Hosier's wrongs prevail.
Sent in this foul clime to languish.

Think what thousands fell in vain.
Wasted with disease and anguish.

Not in glorious battle slain.

Hence with all my train attending

From their oozy tombs below.
Thro' the hoary foam ascending.

Here I feed my constant woe :
Here the Bastimentos viewing.

We recall our shameful doom.
And our plaintive cries renewing.

Wander thro' the midnight gloom.

O'er these waves for ever mourning

Shall we roam depriv'd of rest.
If to Britain's shores returning

You neglect my just request ;

I
\

114 A SAILORS GARLAND

After this proud foe subduing^

When your patriot friends you 8ee>

Think on vengeance for my ruin9
And for England sham'd in me.

BRAVE NEWS FROM ADMIRAL VERNON

(1740)

CoME^ loyal Britons all, rejoice^ with joyful acclamation,
And join with one united voice upon this just occasion^
To Admiral Vernon drink a health, likewise to each brave

fellow
Who with that noble Admiral was, at the taking of Porto

Bello.

From Jamaica he did sail, with Commodore Brown to

attend him^
Against the Spaniards to prevail, for which we must

commend him.
At Porto Bello he arrived, where each brave gallant fellow
With Admiral Vernon bravely fought at the taking of

Porto Bello.

Two men-of-war of twenty guns, likewise five guarda

costa.
They in the harbour quickly took, to surrender they were

forced, sir.
And then the town he summoned straight, to surrender

to his will, O,
Which they refusiag, he did shake the town of Porto Bello.

He did bombard it above two days, and they again re-
turned it.

The bombs and mortars they did play, he vowed that he
would bum it.

Which, when they came to understand he was so brave a
fellow.

They did surrender, out of hand, the town of Porto Bello.

BRAVE NEWS FROM ABMIRAL VERNON r 1 5

Then with hig men he went on shore^ who straight began

to plunder^
'Tb as tiiey s^ved our ships before^ and therefore 'tis no

wonder ;
With plenty of nun and good stHmg wine^ our men did

soon get mellow^
They swore that never a house should stand in the town

of Porto Bello.

The governor to the Admiral sent^ and to him made an

offer.
And thirty thousand pieces of eight, the houses to save

did proffer ;
The which the Admiral did accept with a right and good

free will, O,
And therefore let the houses stand, in the town of Porto

Bello.

The Iron Castle he destroyed, and all the guns he seiz^.
The Spaniards ne'^ were more annoyed, he did just what

he pleas^.
The Sauthsea, snow, he did release, and many an English

fellow
From plundering these could not be kept, in the town of

Porto Bello.

Besides, brave Vernon freely gave, amongst his men as

follows.
Who bravely did themselves behave, full thirty thousand

dollars ;
This must their courage animate, each Tar is a rich fellow.
And this is good encouragement, for the taking of Porto

Bello.

While trumpets they did loudly sound, and colours were

displaying.
The prizes he did bring away, while sailors were huzzaying ;
And then they to Jamaica came, a glorious tale to tell, O,
Of the noble actions they had done in the taking of Porto

Bello.

ii6 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

To oar good King^ now loudly sing^ may Providence attend

him.
To Admiral Vernon^ toss a glass^ may Heaven aye defend

him^
To Commodore Brown^ toss another down^ and to each

gallant fellow
Who did so bravely play his part at the taking of Porto

Bello.

BOLD SAWYER

(1758)

Come all ye jolly sailors^ with courage stout and bold^
Come enter with bold Sawyer, he'll clothe you all in gold^
Repair on board the old Ntissau,
We'll make the French to stand in awe^
She's manned with British boys.

Commodore Keppel with his good design^
Commanded the squadron, five sail of the line,

The Prince Edward of forty guns.

The Firedrake and Furnace bombs.

To take Goree, it must be done,
By true British boys.

The 29th of October, from Spithead we set sail,
Kiad Neptune convey'd us with a sweet and pleasant
gale,
So, steering on the Barbary shore.
Distance about ten leagues or more.
The wind, at West, aloud did roar.
Stand by, ye British boys.

So, steering on the lee shore until the break of day,
We spy'd a lofty sail on the Barbary shore to lay,
In great distress she seem'd to be.
Her guns all overboard threw she.
Which prov'd the Litchfield for to be, .
With all her British boys.

BOLD SAWYER 117

The wind blowing hard we could give them no relief^
A stretching on the lee shore^ we touch'd at Teneriff,
So watering the ships at Santa Cruz^
Taking good wine for our ship's use^
We sold our cloaths good wine to booze.
Like brave British boys.

Our ship being water'd^ and plenty of good wine,
We hoisted up our topsails and crost the tropic line,

The wind at West the leading gale.

Oar gallant ship did sweetly sail.

Steady along, she ne'er will fail.
With all her British boys.

Steady a port ! don't bring her by the lee !
Yonder is the flag staff at Goree, I do see.

We brought the city within our sight.

Anchored in Goree Bay that night,

Clear'd our ships ready to fight.
Like brave British boys.

Early the next morning the Prince Edward of forty guns.
Was station'd off the Island, to cover our two bombs.
The old Nassau she led the van.
With all her jovial fighting men.
The drums did beat ; to quarters stand.
Like brave British boys.

We sail'd up to their batteries as close as we could lay.
Our guns from the top and poop aloud did play.
Which made the French cry, " Morbleu !
Diable ! what shall we do ? "
Here comes bold Sawyer, and all his crew.
They're all British boys.

Then foUow'd the Dunkirk and Torbay^
The guns aloud did rattle, the shells aloud did play.
Which made the French their batteries shun.
And from their trenches for to run.
The flag was struck, the fight was done.
Oh, huzza, my British boys.

Ii6 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Boast not of Frenehmea, nor jet of Madome,
Sawyer's as big a hcto as ever joa did hear.
Whilst the shot around him did flee^
In engaging twice the Isle of Goree,
As valiant men as ever you see.
They are aU British boys.

Here's a health to King George, our sovereign majesty.
Likewise to Bold Sawyer, that fought the French so free.

Our officers ana aU our crew.

Are valiant men as e'er you knew.

So here's a health to all true blue.
My brave British boys.

HEART OF OAK

Comb, cheer up, my lads ! 'tis to glory we steer.
To add something more to this wonderful year :
To honour we call you, not press you like slaves ;
For who are so free as the sons of the waves ?
Heart of oak are our ships,
Heart of oak are our men.
We always are ready :
Steady, boys, steady !
We'll fight and we'll conquer again and again.

We ne'er see our foes but we wish them to stay.
They never see us but they wish us away ;
If they run, why, we follow, or run them ashore ;
For if they won't fight us we cannot do more.
Heart of oak, etc.

They swear they'll invade us, i^ese terrible foes !
They frighten our women, our children and beaux ;
But should their flat bottoms in darkness get o'er,
StiU Britons they'll find to receive them cm shore.
Heart of oak, etc

ON THE LOSS OF THE ROYAL GEORGE ii^

Britannia triumphant, her ships sweep the sea ;
Her standard is Justice — her watchword, '' Be free."
Then cheer up, my lads ! with one heart let us sing,
" Our soldiers, our sailors, our statesmen, and king."
Heart of oak, etc.

David Garrick

ON THE LOSS OF THE ROYAL GEORGE

Toll for the hrave !

The brave that are no more !
All sunk beneath the wave.

Fast by their native shore !

Eight hundred of the brave.
Whose courage well was tried.

Had made the vessel heel.
And laid her on her side.

A land-breeze shook the shrouds,

And she was overset ;
Down went the Roycd George,

With all her crew complete.

Toll for the brave !

Brave Kempenfelt is gone ;
His last sea-fight is fought,

His work of glory done.

It was not in the battle ;

No tempest gave the shock ;
She sprang no fatal leak ;

She ran upon no rock.

His sword was in its sheath.

His fingers held the pen,
When Kempenfelt went down.

With twice four hundred men.

Weigh the vessel up.

Once dreaded by our foes !
And mingle with our cup.

The tears that England owes.

120 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Her timbers yet are sound.

And she may float again.
Full ehaiged with England's thunder.

And plough the distant main.

But Kempenfelt is gone.

His victories are o'er.
And he and his eight hundred

Shall plough the wave no more.

WiLUAM COWPER

ADMIRAL RODNEY'S TRIUMPH ON THE

12TH OF APRIL

True Britons all of each degree.

Rejoice around the nation.
Full bumpers drink and merry be.

Upon this just occasion.
Let mirth on eveiy brow appear,
Rodney victorious is, we hear.
For he has drubbed haughty Mounseer,

Success to gallant Rodney.

This fierce engagement did begin.

About six in the morning,
And held till seven in the evening.

To yield both parties scorning.
But when brave Rodney he came nigh,
He made De Grasse peccavi cry,
And forced the proud Mounseers to fly.

Success to gallant Rodney.

Though they had thirty-seven sail.
They could not save their bacon.

Their numbers nothing did avail.
Their Admiral was taken.

PARKER THE DELEGATE 121

Though Rodney had but thirty-four^
He forced the Mounseers to give o'er,
Success to gallant Rodney.

He took five French sail of the line.

And one was sunk in battle,
The Mounseers did the fight decline.

Awed by his thunder s rattle.
Our tars did ply their guns so fast
Their leaded pills they made them taste,
De Grasse was forced his ship at last.

To yield to gallant Rodney.

Our gallant tars they played their part.

And like true sons of thunder.
They made the haughty Mounseer smart

And forced him to knock under.
They mauled their masts, and rigging, too.
Their small shot just like hailstones flew.
The Mounseers roared out Sacre Dieu,

And fiew from gallant Rodney.

Upon the 12th of April last

(Which was Fool's Day by old style).
He made a fool of famed De Grasse,

Which sure will make you all smile.
Brave Rodney showed them George shall rule.
Drink Rodney's health in bumpers full.
Who made De Giasse an April Fool,
Success to gallant Rodney.

A NEW SONG ON PARKER THE DELEGATE

Head of the Mutiny at Sheerness
(To the tune of the Vicar of Bray)

I WILL not sing in Parker's praise.

Disgraceful is the story,
Nor yet to seamen tune my lays.

Eclipsed is now their glory ;

132 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Fell Faction's head they pkH^udly rear^

'Gainst Country and 'gainst King^ sir.
And on their land they now do try
Destruction for to bring, sir.

Then Britons all, with one accord.

Fight for your Constitution,
And let surrounding foes behold
We want no Revolution.

Parker the means has brought about

Our seamen to corrupt, sir.
And like a daring traitor bold,

Our trade doth interrupt, sir ;
The ships at Sheemess rear the flag.

The emblem of defiance.
With sorrow strikes us to reflect

On them we've no reliance.

An Admiral he calls himself,

Takes a Commander's station.
On board the Sandwich doth insult

And braves the English nation ;
Gives law, dispenses life and death.

Or punishment disgraceful.
And by his arbitrary deeds

Hatn made himself most hateful.

A terror to each merchant ship.

Detains, and doth them plunder.
And if they offer to sail by

His guns do at them thunder ;
Whatever he likes he from them takes.

And should they dare refuse, sir.
The captain's ordered to be flogged.

Thus doth he them ill use, sir.

Five hundred pounds is the reward,
The traitor to bring in, sir.

Who thus the bloody flag hath reared
'Gainst Country and 'gainst King, sir ;

THE ARETHUSA 423

Let's hope the vilhdn quickly will
To punishment be brought, uiif
Who like a daring traitor bold
His countiy's ruin sought, sir.
Then Britons all, with one accord,

Fight for your Constitution,
And let surrounding foes bdiold
We want no Revolution.

THE ARETHUSA

Come, all ye jolly sailors bold.
Whose hearts are cast in honour's mouldy
While English glory I unfold.
Huzza for the Areihusa !
She is a frigate tight and brave.
As ever stenuned the dashing wave ;

Her men are staunch

To their fav'rite launch.
And when the foe shall meet our fire.
Sooner than strike, we'll all expire
On board of the Arethusa,

'Twas with the Spring fleet she w^it out
The English Channel to cruise about,
When four French sail, in show so stout

Bore down on the Arethusa.
The famed Belle Poule ahead did lie.
The Arethusa scorned to fly.

Not a sheet, nor a tack.
Nor a brace did she slack ;
Though the Frenchman laughed and thought it stufl.
But they knew not the handful of men, how tough.

On board of the Arethusa,

On deck five hundred men did dance.
The stoutest they could find in France ;
We with two hundred did advance
On board of the Arethusa,

124 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Our captain hailed the Frenchman^ '^ Ho !
The Frenchman then cried out^ ^' Hallo !

" Bear down, d'ye see.

To our Admiral's lee ! "
'' No, no," says the Frenchman, '^ that can't be."
'' Then I must lug you along with me,"
Says the saucy Arethusa.

The fight was off the Frenchman's land.
We forced them back upon the strand.
For we fought till not a stick could stand

Of the gallant Arethusa,
And now we've driven the foe ashore
Never to fight with Britons more.
Let each fill his glass
To his fav'rite lass ;
A health to the captain and officers true.
And all that belong to the jovial crew
On board of the Arethusa,

Prince Hoare

A NEW SONG ON LORD NELSON'S
VICTORY AT COPENHAGEN

Draw near, ye gallant seamen, while I the truth unfold.
Of as gallant a naval victory as ever yet was told.
The second day of April last, upon the Baltic Main,
Parker, Nelson, and their brave tars, fresh laurels there
did gain.

With their thundering and roaring, rattling and

roaring,
Thundering and roaring bombs.

Gallant Nelson volunteer'd himself, with twelve sail

formed a line,
And in the Road of Copenhagen he began his grand

design;

NELSONS VICTORY AT COPENHAGEN 125

His tars with usual courage^ their valour did display.
And destroyed the Danish navy upon that glorious day.
WUh their, etc.

With strong floating batteries in van and rear we find.
The enemy in centre had six ships of the line ;
At ten that glorious morning, the fight begun, 'tis true.
We Copenhagen set on fire, my boys, before the clock
struck two.

With their, etc.

When this armament we had destroyed, we anchor'd near

the town.
And with our bombs were fully bent to bum their city

down;
Revenge for poor Matilda's wrongs, our seamen swore

they'd have.
But they sent a flag of truce on board, their city for to

save.

With their, etc.

For the loss of his eye and arm, bold Nelson does declare.
The foes of his country, not an inch of them he'll spare ;
The Danes he's made to rue the day that they ever Paul

did join.
Eight ships he burnt, four he sunk, and took six of the

line.

With their, etc.

Now drink a health to gallant Nelson, the wonder of the

world.
Who, in defence of his country his thunder loud has

hurled ;
And to his bold and valiant tars, who plough the raging

sea.
And who never were afraid to face the daring enemy.
With their, etc.

126 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

THE BRAVE TARS OF OLD ENGLAND

(To the tune of Tks Old English Roast Beef)

Long time of the sea had old England been Queen,
When republican France thought to alter the scene.
So she worked day and night to make up a marinCi

To fight the brave tars of old England,

And to fight with the bold British tars.

But the day they met Howe on the seas they may rue.
For to show them the difference he very well knew,
Twixt tri-coloured cockades and true British blue.

Huzza, for the tars of old England,

And huzza for the bold British tars.

They were swept from the sea on the land high and dry.
Till they ventured their luck in a fog once to tiy ;
But a storm sent them back pleased in harbour to lie.

Secure from the tars of old England,

Secure from the bold British tars.

Yet unwilling with Britain's domain to agree.
They made 14) some rods of their Liberty tree ;
And with them they lashed other folk out to sea

To fight the brave tars of old England,

To fight with the brave British tars.

Spanish dons in great force of big ships they were seen.

But Jervis and Nelson to fight them were keen.

So they fought and they beat twenty-sev^ with fifteen,

Mann'd by the brave tars of old l^gland,

Mann'd by the old bold British tars.

Then the French crammed their principles down the

Dutch throats.
And £N«ed the Mynheers for to alter their notes.
And to don the red cap and become Sans Cullotes,

And to fight the brave tars of old England,

And to fight with the bold British tars.

THE BRAVE TABS OF OLD ENGLAND 127

To recover their Cape soon a squadron was fonndt
They split us^ and there they got safely and sound.
But Elphinstone showed they'd got into Lob's Pound,
They were nabbed by the tars of old England,
They were nabbed by the bold British tars.

Then says Monsieur, '^ As, Mynheer, your trade is all lost.
Rig a fleet, and come out, we'll invade Britain's coast,"
But this reck'ning they made without minding their hoit.

Without thinking of tars of old England,

Without thinking of bold British tars.

For to block up Brest harbour Lord Bridport set sail.
And the mouth of the Texel our fleet did not fail.
To shut up and keep the Dutch rogues ia their jail ;

Hemmed in by the tars of old England,

Hemmed in by the bold British tars.

Our fleet to refit it had just sailed away.

When, the cat being gone, the mouse came out to |4ay ;

But this play it became woeful earnest that day.

Laid on by the tars of old England,

Laid on by the bold British tara.

For the news of their sailing had scarce reached our <iai9,
When our anchors flew up to the sound of three cbeeift;
And away to the Texel to fight the Mynheers,

Away went the tars of old England,

Away went the bold British tars.

With their Liberty hulks to sheer off was in vain.
For, as we got between, they their port could not gain.
So they took the resolve a hard fight to maintain.

Against the brave tars of old England,

Against the old bold British tars.

'Twas twelve when the signal for action was given.
Our guns opened fire like the thunder from heaven ;
And by three the Dutch fleet off the water was driven.

Smashed to pieces by tars of old England,

Smashed to pieces by bold British tars.

128 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Their hulks were a riddle^ their canvas a rag^

Ten struck with their Vice and their Admiral's flag ;

Their friends on the shore had no reason to brag

Of success against tars of old England^

Of success against bold British tars.

Then Gallia^ exerting the strength of her power^
Sent a fleet out a skulking to Erica's shore^
To plunder and rob the Egyptian store^
And elude the brave tars of old England^
And to bilk all the brave British tars.

But Nelson^ that bold British Boy did set sail^
And in their concealment the Frenchmen did nail^
He destroyed their fine scheme^ pulled the sting from
their tail^

And played them the tars of old England,

To the tune of the bold British tars.

On their ships and their batteries, so fierce did he fall.
That he burnt, sunk, and took and destroyed them alL
A piping hot supper of powder and ball

They received from the tars of old England,

Piping hot from the bold British tars.

Britannia's high trident, still waving on high.
Bids her tars all be true, and their foes all defy ;
To avenge all her wrongs they will conquer or die.

Like brave jolly tars of old England,

The conquering brave British tars.

Now fill up a glass, while a bumper we have.
To Howe, Jervis, Duncan, and Nelson the Brave ;
To the bold British tars, who now rule on the wave.

Huzza for the bulwarks of England,

And health to each bold British tar.

TRAFALGAR 1 29

TRAFALGAR

1 805

'TwAS at the close of that dark mom
On which our Hero, conquering, died.

That every seaman's heart was torn
By strife of sorrow and of pride ; —

Of pride, that one short day would show

Deeds of eternal splendour done.
Full twenty hostile ensigns low.

And twenty glorious victories won —

Of grief, of deepest, teinderest grief.

That He, on every sea and shore.
Their brave, beloved, unconquer'd Chief,

Should wave his victor-flag no more.

Sad was the eve of that dire day :

But sadder, direr was the night.
When human rage had ceased the fray.

And elements maintain'd the fight.

All shaken in the conflict past.
The navies fear'd the tempest loud —

The gale, that shook the groaning mast —
The wave, that climb'd the tatter'd shroud.

By passing gleams of sullen light.

The worn and weary seamen view'd
The hard-eam'd prizes of the fight

Sink, found'ring, in the midnight flood :

And oft, as drowning screams they heard.

And oft, as sank the ships around,
Some British vessel lost they fear'd.

And moum'd some British brethren drown'd.

I30 A SAILOR'S 6ABLAND

And oft they cried (as memory roll'd
On Him^ so late their hope and guide.

But now a bloody corse and cold),
''Was it for this that Nelson died ? "

For three short days, and three long nights.
They wrestled with the tempest's force ;

And sank the trophies of their fights, —
And thought upon that bloody corse ! —

But when the fairer mom arose

Bright o'er the yet-tumultuous main.

They saw no wreck but that of foes.
No ruin but of France and Spain :

And victors now of winds and seas.
Beheld the British vessels brave.

Breasting the ocean at their ease.
Like sea-birds on their native wave :

And now they cried (because they found
Old England's fleet in all its pride.

While Spain's and France's hopes were drown'd,
'' It was for this that Nklson died ! "

He died, with many an hundred bold
And honest hearts as ever beat ! —

But whore's the British heart so cold
That would not die in such a feat ?

Yes ! by their memories 1 by all

The honours which their tomb surround !
Theirs was the noblest, happiest fall

Which ever mortal courage crown'd.

THE BATTLE OF TRAFALGAR 131

Then bear them to their glorious grave
With no weak tears^ no woman's sighs ;

Theirs was the deathbed of the brave^
And manly be their obsequies.

Haul not your colours from on high^
Nor down the flags of victory lower :-

Give every streamer to the sky.

Let all your conqu'ring cannon roar ;

That every kindling soul may learn
How to resign its patriot breath ;

And from a grateful country, earn
The triumphs of a trophied death.

THE BATTLE OF TRAFALGAR

Arise, ye Sons of Britain, in chorus join and sing.
Great and joyful news is come unto our Royal King.
An engagement we have had by sea
With France and Spain, our enemy,
And we've gained a glorious victory
Again, my brave boys.

On the twenty-first of October, at the rising of the sun
We form'd the line for action, every man to his gun.

Brave Nelson to his men did say,

" The Lord will prosper us this day.

Give them a broadside, fire away.
My true British boys."

132 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Broadside after broadside^ oar cannon balls did fly^
The small shot^ like hailstones^ upon the deck did lie.
Their masts and rigging we shot away^
Besides some thousands on that day
Were killed and wounded in the fiay
On both sides^ brave boys.

Lord reward brave Nelson^ and protect his soul.
Nineteen sail the combined fleets lost in the whole ;
The Achille blew up amidst them all.
Which made the French for mercy call ; —
Nelson was slain by a musket-ball.
Mourn, Britons, Mourn.

Each brave commander in tears did shake his head,
Their grief was no relief when Nelson he was dead ;
It was by a fatal musket-ball.
Which caus'd our Hero for to fall.
He cried, " Fight on, God bless you all.
My brave British Tars."

Huzza, my valiant Seamen, huzza, we gain'd the day.
But lost a brave commander, bleeding on the lay ;
With joy we'd gain'd the victory.
Before his death, he did plainly see,
'* I die in peace, bless God," said he.
The victoiy is won."

I hope this glorious victory will bring a speedy peace.
That all trade in England may flourish anid increase,
And our ships from port to port go free
As before, let us with them agree.
May this turn the heart of our Enemy.
Huzza, my brave boys.

VICTORIA 133

VICTORIA

(June 22nd, 189S)

((

There was absolutely no panic, no shoatin|;, no rushing aimlessly
about. The officers went quietly to their stations. Everything was
prepared, and the men were all in their positions. ... I can further
testi^ to the men below in the engine-rooms. ... In all the details
of this terrible accident one spot especially stands out, and that is the
heroic conduct of those who to the end remained below, stolidly yet
boldly, at their place of duty." — Captain Bourk^s Statement,

Queen ! What is this that comes
Borne on thy rolling drums
At smirise from the far

Syrian borders ?
— Sped from the flags that fly
Half-mast at Tripoli^
Where float the ships of war^

Thy Virgin warders ?

Where tarries she who should
Captain that sisterhood^
Named with thy name> and own

Offspring of victory ?
Deep, eighty fathoms deep.
She, with her crew asleep.
Recks not the signal flow^.

Vain, valedictory.

Not in thy day of wrath.
Lord Ciod of Sabaoth,
Nor upon rock or sand

Hemmed with thy breath round ;
But leading tranquilly.
Upon a tranquil sea.
Swift at a sister's hand

Took she her death-wound.

134 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Launched on the fatal curve>
Too late to stay or swerve^
Starkly the Camperdonm

Bounded^ descended^
Struck — saw, and backward reeled,
As he who on the field
By Oxus smote his own

Sohrab, the splendid.

But She, the stricken hull,
The doomed, the beautiful.
Proudly to fate abased

Her brow Titanic.
Praise now her multitude
Who, nursed in fortitude.
Fell in on deck and faced

Death without panic.

Heaven, that to admirals.
Assigns their funerals.
To some the battle's ridge

Full-starred, to die on —
Took not the spirit proud
From him she less iJlowed.
— Calm, cool, upon the bridge.

Sank the brave Tryon !

Now for the seamen whom
Thy not degenerate womb
Gave thus to die for thee,

England, be tearless :
Rise, and with front serene
Answer, thou Spartan queen.
** Still God is good to me :

My sons are fearless."

VICTORIA 135

Back to the flags that fly
Half-mast at Tripoli^
Back on the sullen drum

Mourning Vtctoria^
Loud^ ay^ and jubilant^
Hurl thine imperial chant —
'^ In tnorte talium

Stat matris gloria I *'

A. T. QuiLLER-CoUCH

POEMS OF SAILORS AND OF

LIFE AT SEA

THE SHIPMAN

A scHiPMAN was ther^ wonying fer by weste :

For ought I woot^ he was of Dertemouthe.

He rood upon a rouncy as he couthe^

In a gowne of faldying to the kne.

A dagger hanging on a laas hadde he

Aboute his nekke under his arm adoun.

The hoote somer had maad his hew al broun ;

And certainly he was a good felawe.

Ful many a draught of wyn had he drawe

From Burdeux-ward, while that the chapman

sleep.
Of nyce conscience took he no keep.
If that he foughte, and hadde the heigher hand^
By water he sente hem hoom to every land.
But of his craft to reckon well the tydes.
His stremes, and his dangers him besides^
His herbergh, and his mone, his lodemenage^
Ther was non such from Hulle to Cartage.
Hardy he was, and wys to undertake ;
With many a tempest hadde his herd ben shake.
He knew wel al the havenes, as thei were.
From Scotland to the Cape of Fynestere,
And every cryk in Bretayne and in Spayne ;
His barge y-clepud was the Magdelat/ne.

Geoffrey Chaucer

13«

SAILING OF THE PILGRIMS 137

THE SAILING OF THE PILGRIMS FROM
SANDWICH TOWARDS ST. JAMES OF
COMPOSTELLA

A POEM OF THE EARLY 15tH CENTURY

Men may leve all gamys
That saylen to Sent Jamys ;
For many a man hit gramys ; ^
When they begyn to sayle.

For when they have take the see^
At Sandwyche^ or at Wynchylsee,
At Bristow, or where that hyt bee,
Theyr herts begyn to fayle.

Anone the mastyr commaundeth fast
To hys sh3rp-men in all the hast,
To dresse hem sone about the mast,
Theyr takelyng to make.

With '^howel hissa I " then they cry,
^' What, hoist ! mate thow stondest to ny,^
Thy felow may nat hale the by ; "
Thus they begyn to crake.

A boy or tweyne anone up-styen.
And overthwarte the sayle-yerde lyen ; —
'^ Y how ! taylia ! " * the remenaunte cry en.
And pull with all theyr myght.

^' Bestowe the 1[)oote,* bote-swajnie, anon.
That our pylgryms may pley thereon ;
For som ar lyke to cowgh and grone.
Or hit be full mydnyght."

* Gramys, troubles.

' Ny, too near, too close, so that the next man cannot haul.

' Taylia, O, tally on, take hold and haul.

^ BO0U, ship's bcMit.

138 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

" Hale the bowelyne ! now, vere the shete !
Cooke, make redy anoone our mete.
Our pylgiyms have no lust to ete,
I pray God yeve him rest."

'' Go to the helm ! what, howe ! no nere ? ^
Steward, felow ! a pot of here ! "
'' Ye shall have, sir, with good chere,
Anone all of the best.

'' Y howe ! trussa ! ' hale in the brayles !
Thow halest nat, be God, thow fayles,
O se how well owre good shjrp sayles ! "
And thus they say among.

« Hale in the Wartake ! " « '' Hit shall be done."
'' Steward ! cover the boorde anone.
And set bred and salt thereone.
And tarry nat to long."

Then cometh oone and seyth, " Be mery ;
Ye shall have a storme or a pery." ^
'^ Hold thow thy pese ! thow canst no whery,
Thow medlyst wondyr sore."

Thys menewhyle the pylgryms ly.
And have theyr bowlys fast them by.
And cry afthyr bote malvesy,
'' Thow helpe for to restore."

And som wold have a saltyd tost.
For they myght ete neyther sode ne rost
A man myght sone pay for theyr cost.
As for oo day or twaync

1 Aif nere, steer no nearer the wind.

' Trussa, a call or hauling shout. " O truss her up."

'A warp. * A pery^ a danger.

SIR PATRICK SPENS 139

Som layde theyr bookys on theyr kne.

And lad so long they myght nat se ; —

** Alias ! myne hede woll deve on thre !

Thus seyth another certayne.

Then commeth oure owner lyke a lorde^
And speketh many a royall worde^
And <kesseth hym to the hygh borde
To see all thyng be well

Anone he calleth a carpentere.
And bidd3rth hym bryng with hym hys gere.
To make the cabans here and there.
With many a febyl celL

A sak of strawe werr there ryght good
For som must lyg them in theyr hood,
I had as lefe be in the wood,
Without mete or drynk.

For when that we shall go to bedde.
The pumpe was nygh our bedde hede,
A man were as good to be dede.
As smell thereof the stynk.^

SIR PATRICK SPENS

The King sits in Dunfermline town.

Drinking the blude-red wine :
'* O whaur will I get a skeely skipper

To sail this new ship o' mine ? "

O up and spake an eldem knight.

Sat at the King's right knee :
'^ Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor

That ever sailed the sea."

* The water which leaks into a tight wooden ship generally rots in
the bilges. The smell of this rotten water is abominable, but the
presence of the smell indicates that the leak is inconsiderable.

140 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Our King has written a braid letter

And sealed it wi' his hand^
And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens,

Was walking on the strand.

*' To Noroway, to Noroway^

To Noroway o'er the faem ;
The King's daughter to Noroway,

'Tis thou maun bring her hame."

The first word that Sir Patrick read^

Sae loud, loud lauchM he ;
The neist word that Sir Patrick read,

The tear blinded his ee.

'^ O wha is this has done this deed,

And tauld the King of me.
To send us out at this time o' year

To sail upon the sea ?

^' Be it wind, be it weet, be it hail, be it sleet.

Our ship must sail the faem ;
The King's daughter to Noroway,

'Tis we must bring her hame."

They hoysed their sails on Monday mom

Wi' a' the speed they may ;
They hae landed in Noroway

Upon a Wodensday.

They hadna been a week, a week.

In Noroway, but twae.
When that the lords o' Noroway

Began aloud to say :

'^ Ye Scottishmen spend a' pur King's goud

And a' our Queenis fee."
*' Ye lie, ye lie, ye liars loud,

Fu' loud I hear ye lie !

SIR PATRICK SPENS 141

^* For I brought as mickle white monie

As gane my men and me.
And I brought a half-fou o' gude red goad

Out o'er the sea wi' me.

" Mak' ready, mak' ready, my merry men a' !

Our gude ship sails the mom."
" Now, ever alake, my master dear,

I fear a deadly storm.

" I saw the new moon late yestreen

Wi' the auld moon in her arm ;
And, if we gang to sea, master,

I fear we'll come to harm."

They hadna sailed a league, a league,

A league but barely three.
When the lift grew dark, and the wind blew loud.

And gurly grew the sea.

*^ O where will I get a gude sailor

To tak' my helm in h^d.
Till I gae up to the tall topmast

To see if I can spy land ? "

" O here am I, a sailor gude.

To tak' the helm in hand.
Till you gae up to the tall topmast ;

But I fear you'll ne'er spy land."

He hadna gane a step, a step,

A step but barely ane,
When a bolt flew out o' our goodly ship,

And the salt sea it came in.

^* Gae fetch a web o' the silken claith,

Anither o' the twine.
And wap them into our ship's side.

And letna the sea come in."

142 A SAILORS GARLAND

They fetched a web o' the silken claith,

Anither o' the twine^
And they wapped them round that gude ship's side^

But still the sea cam' in.

O laith, laith were our gude Scots lords

To weet their milk-white hands ;
But lang ere a' the play was ower

They wat their gowden bands.

O laith, laith were our gude Scots lords

To weet their cork-heeled shoon ;
But lang ere a' the play was played

They wat their hats aboon.

O lang, lang may the ladies sit

Wi' their fans intill their hand.
Before they see Sir Patrick Spens

Come sailing to the strand !

And lang, lang may the maidens sit

Wi' their goud kaims in their hair,
A' waiting for their ain dear loves !

For them they'll see nae mair.

Hauf ower, hauf ower to Aberdour,

It's fifty fathoms deep.
And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens

Wi' the Scots lords at his feet.

FROM THE TEMPEST

ACT I.

Scene I. — On a Ship at Sea. A tempestuous noise of
Thunder and Lightning heard.

Enter a Ship-Magler and a Boatswain.

Master. Boatswain!
Boats. Here, master : what cheer ?
Mast. Grood, speak to the mariners : fall to 't yarely, or
we run ourselves aground : bestir, bestir. [Exit.

FROM THE TEMPEST 143

£11^ Mariners »

Boats. Height my hearts ; cheerly^ cheerly^ my hearts ;
yare^ yare. Take in the topsail ; tend to the master's
whistle. — Blow till thou burst thy wind^ if room enough !

Enter Alonso^ Sebastian^ Antonio, Ferdinand,

GoNZALo, and others,

Alon. Good boatswain, have care. Where's the master?
Plirv^ the men.

Boats, I pray now, keep below.

Ant, Where is the master, boatswain ?

Boats, Do you not hear him? You mar our labour.
Keep your cabins ; you do assist the storm.

Gon, Nay, good, be patient.

Boats, When the sea is. Hence! What care these
roarers for the name of king ? To cabin : silence ! trouble
us not.

Gon, Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.

Boats, None that I more love than myself. You are a
counsellor : if you can command these elements to silence,
and work the peace of the present, we will not hand a
rope more ; use your authority : if you cannot, give thanks
you have lived so long, and make yourself ready in your
cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap. — Cheerly,
good hearts ! — Out of our way, I say. \ExU,

Gon, I have great comfort from this fellow : metninks
he hath no drowning mark upon him ; his complexion is
perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his hanging !
make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth
little advantage : if he be not bom to be hanged, our case
is miserable. [Exeunt,

Re-enter Boatswain,

Boats, Down with the topmast: yare; lower, lower.
Bring her to try with main-course. [A cry within,'] A
plague upon this howling! they are louder than the
weather, or our office. —

144 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

/{e-en^er Sebastian^ Antonio^ and Gonzalo.

Yet again ? what do you here ? Shall we give o'er^ and
drown ? Have you a mind to sink ?

Seb. A pox o' your throaty you bawling^ blasphemous^
incharitable dog !

Boats, Work you, then.

Ant, Hang, cur, hang, you whoreson, insolent noise-
maker, we are less afraid to be drowned than thou art

Gfofi. m warrant him for drowning, though the ship
were no stronger than a nutshell, and as leaky as an un-
stanched wench.

Boats, Lay her a-hold, a-hold ! Set her two courses ; off
to sea again ; lay her off.

Enter Mariners, wet.

Mar, All lost ! to prayers, to prayers ! all lost !

[Exeunt,

Boats. What, must our mouths be cold ?

Gon, The king and prince at prayers ; let's assist them.
For our case is as theirs.

Set, I am out of patience.

Ant, We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards. —
This wide-chopped rascal, — 'would, thou might'st lie

drowning.
The washing of ten tides !

Gon, He'll be hanged yet.

Though every drop of water swear against it.
And gape at wid'st to glut him.

[A confused noise within,'] Mercy on us ! —

We split, we split ! — Farewell, my wife and children I —
Farewell, brother ! — ^We split, we split, we split ! —

Ant, Let's all sink with the king. [Eisit,

Seb, Let's take leave of him. [Exit,

Gon. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for
an acre of barren ground ; long heath, brown fiirze, any-
thing. The wills above be done, but I would fain die a
dry death. [Exit.

William Shakespeare

A BALLAD OF SEA FAHDINGEBS 145

THE SAYLOR'S SONG

We Seamen are the bonny boys

That fear no storms nor rocks-a^
Whose music is the Cannon's noise^

Whose sporting is with knocks-a.

'Tis brave to see a ship to sail

With all her trim gear on>a.
As though the Devil were at her tail

She with the wind will run-^

Come let us reck'n what ships are ours^

The Gorgon, and the Dragon ;
The Lion, which in fight is bold

The Bull with bloody flag on.

The Bear, the Dog, the Far, the Kite ;

That stuck fast to the Raver,
They chased the Turk in a day and night

From Scanderoon to Dover.

A health to brave sea-soldiers all^

Let cans a-piece go round-a ;
Pell-mell let's to the battle fall

And lofty music sound-a.

(From Wit and Drollery, l682)

A BALLAD OF SEA FARDINGERS,
DESCRIBING EVIL FORTUNE

What pen can well report the plight
Of those that travel on the sea ?
To pass the weary winter's night
With stormy clouds wishing for day^
With waves that toss them to and fro, —
Their poor estate is hard to show.

146 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

When bolstering winds begin to roar
On cruel coasts^ from haven we^
The foggy mists so dims the shore^
The rocks and sands we may not see^
Nor have no room at sea to try^
But pray to God^ and yield to die.

When shoals and sandy banks appear^
What pilot can direct his course ?
When foaming tides drive us so near,
Alas ! what fortune can be worse ?
Then anchor's hold must be our stay^
Or else we fall into decay.

We wander still from luff to lie^
And find no steadfast wind to blow ;
We still remain in jeopardy^
Each perilous point is hard to show ;
In time we hope to find redress,
That long have lived in heaviness.

O pinching, weary, loathsome life,
That travel still in far exile.
The dangers great on seas be rife
Whose recompense doth yield but toil.
O Fortune, grant me my desire, —
A happy end I do require.

When frets and storms have had their fill.
And gentle calm the coast will clear.
Then hauirhty hearts shall have their will.
That long hart wept with mourning cheer ;
And leave the seas with their annoy,
At home at ease to live in joy.

(Sloane MS. 2497 foL 47)

SIR WALTER RALEIGH 147

SIR WALTER RALEIGH SAILING IN THE

LOWLANDS

(To the Tune of Sailing in the Lowlands of Holland)

Shewing how the famous Ship called the Sweet Trinity was taken
by a false Galley, and how it was again restored by the craft of a little
Sea-boy, who sunk the Galley ; as the following Song will declare.

Sir Walter Raleigh has built a Ship^ in the Netherlands ;
Sir Walter Raleigh has built a Ship^ in the Netherlands ;
And it is called the Sweet Trinity ,

And it was taken by the false Gallaly^ sailing in the
Lowlands.

^^ Is there never a Seaman bold in the Netherlands ;
Is there never a Seaman bold in the Netherlands ;
That will go take this false Gallaly^

And to redeem the Sweet Trinity, sailing in the Low-
lands ? "

Then spoke the little Ship-boy^ in the Netherlands ;
Then spoke the little Ship-boy^ in the Netherlands ;
'^Master^ what will you give me^ an I take this false

Gallaly,
And release the Sweet Trinity, sailing in the Lowlands ? "

*' I'll give thee gold^ and 1*11 give thee fee, in the Nether-
lands;

I'll give thee gold, and I'll give thee fee, in the Nether-
lands ;

And my eldest daughter, thy wife shall be, sailing in the
Lowlands."

He set his breast, and away he did swim, in the Nether-
lands ;

He set his breast, and away he did SMdm, in the Nether-
lands,

Until he came to the false Gallaly, sailing in the Lowlands.

148 A SAILORS GARLAND

He had an Augur fit for the nonce^ in the Netherlands ;
He had an Augur fit for the nonce^ in the Netherlands,
The which will bore fifteen good holes at once, sailing in
the Lowlands.

Some were at Cards, and some at Dice, in the Netherlands ;
Some were at Cards, and some at Dice, in the Netherlands,
Until the salt water flashed in their eyes, sailing in the
Lowlands.

Some cut their hats, and some cut their caps, in the

Netherlands ;
Some cut their hats, and some cut their caps, in the

Netherlands,
For to stop the salt water gaps, sailing in the Lowlands.

He set his breast, and away did swim, in the Netherlands ;
He set his breast, and away did swim, in the Netherlands,
Until he came to his own ship again, sailing in the Low-
lands.

^^ I have done the work I promised to do, in the Nether-
lands ;

I have done the work I promised to do, in the Nether-
lands.

I have sunk the false Gallaly, and released the Sweet
Trinity, sailing in ^he Lowlands.

" You promised me gold, and you promised me fee, in the

Netherlands ;
You promised me gold, and you promised me fee, in the

Netherlands ;
Your eldest daughter my wife she must be, sailing in the

Lowlands."

'^You shall have gold, and you shall have fee, in the

Netherlands ;
You shall have gold, and you shall have fee, in the

Netherlands ;
But my eldest daughter your wife shall never be, sailing

in the Lowlands."

THE GOUDEN VANITEE 149

'^ Then fare you well^ you coaEening Loid^ in the Nether-
lands;

Then fare you well, you cozening Lord, in the Nether-
lands;

Seeing you are not so good as your word, sailing in the
Lowlands."

And thus I shall conclude my Song of the sailing in the

Lowlands ;
Wishing all happiness to all Seamen both old and young.
In their sailing in the Lowlands.

THE GOULDEN VANITEE

There was a gallant ship, and a gallant ship was she,

Ik iddle du, and the Lowlands low ;
And she was called the Goulden Vanitee,

As she sailed to the Lowlands low.

She had not sailed a league, a league but only three,

Ik iddle du, and the Lowlands low ;
When she came up with a French gallee,

As she sailed to the Lowlands low.

Out spoke the little cabin boy, out spoke he,

Ik iddle du, and the Lowhuids low ;
'^ What will you give if I sink that French gallee.

As ye sail to the Lowlands low ? "

Out spoke the Captain, out spoke he,

Ik iddle du, and the Lowlands low ;
*^ We'll give ye an estate in the North countree.

As ye sail to the Lowlands low."

" Then row me up tight in a black bull's skin,

Ik iddle du, and the Lowlands low ;
And throw me o'er deck-board, sink I or swim.

As ye sail to the Lowlands low."

ISO A SAILOR'S GARLAND

So they sewed him up tight in a black bull's skin^

Ik iddle du, and the Lowlands low ;
And threw him over deck-board^ sink he or swim^

As they sail to the Lowlands low.

About and about and about went he^

Ik iddle du^ and the Lowlands low ;
Until he had swam to the French gallee^

As she sailed to the Lowlands low.

O some were plajing cards^ and some were playing dice^

Ik iddle du^ and the Lowlands low ;
When he took out an augur^ bored thirty holes at twice^

As she sailed to the Lowlands low.

And some they ran with cloaks^ and some they ran with
capS;

Ik iddle du^ and the Lowlands low ;
To try if they could stop the salt water drops^

As she sailed to the Lowlands low.

About and about and about went he^

Ik iddle du^ and the Lowlands low ;
Until he came back to the Goulden Vamtee,

As she sailed to the Lowlands low.

" Now heave me o'er a rope^ and sway me up aboard^

Ik iddle du^ and the Lowlands low ;
And give me the farm land^ as good as your word^

As ye sail to the Lowlands low."

" We'll heave you no rope^ nor sway you up aboard^

Ik iddle du^ and the Lowlands low ;
Nor give you an estate^ as good as our word^

As we sail to the Lowlands low."

Out spoke the little cabin-boy^ out spoke he^

Ik iddle du^ and the Lowlands low ;
'^ ril sink ye as I sunk the French gallee^

As ye sail to the Lowlands low."

THE GOLDEN VANITY 151

They hove him o'er a rope, and they swayed him up
aboard,
Ik iddle du, and the Lowlands low ;
And they have proved to him much better than their
word.
As they sailed to the Lowlands low.

THE GOLDEN VANITY

MODERN VERSION^

A SHIP I have in the North countree.
She goes by the name of the Golden Vanity ,
I fear she will be taken by a Turkish galla-lee,
As she sails hf the Lowlands low.

Then up and says our little cabin-boy,
" What gold will you give me if I do them destroy ?
If I sink her in the seas that she never more annoy.
As we sail by the Lowlands low ? "

'' I will give you red gold, and silver good store,
And of acres of corn-land I'll give to you a score.
And my daughter to marry, if we ever come ashore.
If you sink her in the Lowlands low."

The Boy he bent his breast, and away he jumpt in.
He swam till he came to the Turkish galley-in.
And the salt sea water was cold upon his skin.
As he swam by the Lowlands low.

And out he took an augur, and bored holes thrice.
And some were playing cards, and some were playing

dice.
When the water flowM in, it dazzled their eyes.
And they sank by the Lowlands low.

^ There are countless other versions of this old ballad ; and perhaps
every village in Devon and Cornwall would furnish variations from
the beautifol original.

1 52 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

The Boy he bent his breast, and he swam back again.
And the salt sea water was cold upon his brain.
And he cried, " O take me up, or I shall be slain,
/ am drowning in the Lowlands law."

*' m not take you up, you can climb up her side,
I will not take you up," the master replied ;
'^I will kill you, I will shoot you," the cruel master
cried,
^* You may sink in the Lowlands low"

The Boy he swam round all by the starboard side.
And they laid him on the deck, and there he soon died.
And they sewed him up tight in a black bull's hide.
And they hove him into the sea to go down with the
tide.
And sunk him in the Lowlands low.

THE STORM

• ••••••

England, to whom we owe what we be and have.

Sad that her sons did seek a foreign grave,

— For Fate's or Fortune's drifts none can soothsay :

Honour and misery have one face, and way —

From out her pregnant entrails sighed a wind.

Which at the air's middle marble room did find

Such strong resistance, that itself it threw

Downward again ; and so when it did view

How in the port our fleet dear time did leese.

Withering like prisoners, which lie but for fees.

Mildly it kiss'd our sails, and fresh and sweet

— As to a stomach starved, whose insides meet.

Meat comes — it came ; and swole our sails, when we

So joy'd, as Sarah her swelling joyed to see.

But 'twas but so kind as our countrymen.

Which bring friends one day's way, and leave them then.

THE STORM 153

Then like two mighty kings^ which dwelling far

Asunder^ meet against a third to war.

The south and west winds joined^ and^ as they blew^

Waves like a rolling trench before them threw.

Sooner than you read this line, did the gale.

Like shot, not feared .till felt, our sails assail ;

And what at first was called a gust, the same

Hath now a storm's, anon a tempest's name.

Jonas, I pity thee, and curse those men

Who, when the storm raged most, did wake thee then.

Sleep is pain's easiest salve, and doth fulfil

AU offices of death except to kilL

But when I waked, I saw that I saw not ;

Ay, and the sun, which should teach me, had forgot

East, west, day, night ; and I could only say.

If the world had lasted, now it had been day.

Thousands our noises were, yet we 'mongst all

Could none by his right name, but thunder, call.

Light'ning was all our light, and it rained more

Than if the sun had drunk the sea before.

Some coffin'd in their cabins lie, equally

Grieved that they are not dead, and yet must die ;

And as sin-burdened souls from grave will creep

At the last day, some forth their cabins peep.

And trembling ask, " What news ? " and do hear so.

As jealous husbands, what they would not know.

Some, sitting on the hatches, would seem there

With hideous gazing to fear away fear.

Then note they the ship's sicknesses, the mast

Shaked with an ague, and the hold and waist

With a salt dropsy clogged, and all our tacklings

Snapping, like too-too-high-stretched treble strings.

And from our tattered sails rags drop down so.

As from one hanged in chains a year ago.

Even our ordnance, placed for our defence.

Strives to break loose, and 'scape away from thence.

Pumping hath tired our men, and what's the gain ?

Seas into seas thrown, we suck in again ;

Hearing hath deaf 'd our sailors, and if they

Knew how to hear, there's none knows what to say.

154 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Compared to these storms death is bat a qualm^
Hell somewhat lightsome^ the Bermudas calm.
Darkness^ light's eldest brother^ his birthright
Claims o'er the worlds and to heaven hath chased

light.
All things are one, and that one none can be^
Since all forms miiform deformity
Doth cover ; so that we^ except God say
Another Fiat^ shall have no more day.
So violent^ yet long^ these furies be.

John Donne

SHORTENING SAIL

As the proud horse^ with costly trappings gay^
Exulting prances to the bloody fray ;
Spuming the ground^ he glories in his mighty
But reels tumultuous in the shock of fight ;
E'en so^ caparison'd in gaudy pride,
The bounding vessel dances on the tide.
Fierce and more fierce the southern demon blew,
And more incens'd the roaring waters grew.
The ship no longer can her topsails spread^
And every hope of fairer skies is fied.
Bowlines and halliards are relax'd again ;
Clue-lines haul'd down, and sheets let fly amain ;
Clu*d up, each topsail, and by braces squared ;
The seamen climb aloft on either yard.
They furl the sail, and pointed to the wind
The yard, by rolling tackles ^ then confin'd.
While o'er the ship the gallant boatswain flies,
like a hoarse mastiff, thro' the storm he cries :
Prompt to direct the unskilful still appears ;
Th' expert he praises, and the fearful cheers.

^ The rolling tackle is an assemblage of pullies used to confine the
yard to the weather side of the mast, and prevent the former from
rubbing against the latter by the fluctuating motion of the ship.

SHORTENING SAIL 155

Now some to strike top-gallant yards ^ attend ;
Some travellers ^ up the weather back-stays ^ send ;
At each mast-head the top-ropes ^ others bend.
The youngest sailors from the yards above
Their parrels/ lifts/ and braces soon remove ;
Then topt an end^ and to the travellers tied,
Charg'd with their sails, they down the back-stays

slide.
The yards secure along the booms ^ reclin'd ;
While some the flying cords aloft confin'd.
Their sails reduc'd, and all the rigging clear,
Awhile the crew relax from toils severe.
Awhile their spirits, with fatigue opprest.
In vain expect th' alternate hour of rest :
But with redoubling force the tempests blow.
And watery hills in fell succession flow.
A dismal shade o'ercasts the frowning skies ;
New troubles grow ; new diffictdties rise.
No season this from duty to descend 1
All hands on deck, th' eventful hour attend.
His race perform'd, the sacred lamp of day
Now dipt in western clouds his parting ray ;
His sick'ning fires, half-lost in ambient haze.
Refract along the dusk a crimson blaze ;

^ It was usual to send down the top-gallant yards on the approach of a
storm.

' Travellers were slender iron rings encircling the back-stays, and
used to focilitate the hoisting, or lowering of the top-gallant yards, by
confining them to the back-stays, in their ascent or descent, so as to
prevent them from swinging about by the agitation of the vessel.

' Back-stajrs are long ropes extending from the right and left side of
the ship to the mast heads, which they are intended to secure, by
counteracting the efforts of the wind upon the sails.

^ Top-ropes are the cords by which the top-gallant yards were hoisted
up from the deck, or lowered again in stormy weather.

* The parrel, which is usually a movable band of rope, is employed
to confine the yard to its respective mast.

'Lifts are ropes extending from the head of any mast to the
extremities of its particular yard, to support the weight of the latter ;
to retain it in balance ; or to raise one yard-arm higher than the other,
which is accordingly called topping.

^ The booms in this place imply masts or yards lying on the deck in
reserve, to supply the place of others which may be canied away.

1 56 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Till deep immerg'd the languid orb declines^

And now to cheerless night the sky resigns !

Sad evening's hour^ how different nrom the past !

No flaming pomp^ no blushing glories cast ;

No ray of friendly light is seen around :

The moon and stars in hopeless shade are drown'd.

The ship no longer can her courses ^ bear ;
To reef the courses is the master's care :
The sailors summon'd aft^ a daring band !
Attend th' unfolding brails at his command.
But here the doubtful officers dispute.
Till skill and judgment prejudice confute.
Rodmond, whose genius never soar'd beyond
The narrow rules of art his youth had conn'd.
Still to the hostile fury of the wind
Releas'd the sheet, and kept the tack confin'd ;
To long tried practice obstinately warm.
He doubts conviction, and relies on form ;
But the sage master this advice declines ;
With whom Arion in opinion joins.
The watchful seaman, whose sagacious eye
On sure experience may with truth rely.
Who from the reigning cause foretels th' effect.
This barbarous practice ever will reject.
For, fluttering loose in air, the rigid sail
Soon slits to ruins in the furious gale !
And he who strives the tempest to disarm.
Will never first embrail the lee yard-arm.
The master said ; obedient to command
To raise the tack the ready sailors stand.^
Gradual it loosens, while th' involving clue,
Swell'd by the wind, aloft unruflling flew.
The sheet and weather-brace they now stand by ; '
The lee clue-garnet and the bunt-lines ply.

^ The courses are generally understood to be the mainsail, foresail,
and mizzen, which are the largest and lowest sails on their several masts.

' It has been remarked, the tack is always listened to windward :
accordingly as soon as it is cast loose, and the clue-garnet hauled up,
the weather clue of the sail mounts to the yard.

' It is necessary to pull in the weather brace whenever the sheet is
cast off, to preserve the sail from shaking violently.

SHORTENING SAIL 157

Thus all prepar'd^ '^Let go the sheet/' he cries ;
* Impetuous round the ringing wheels it flies :
Shivering at firsts till^ by the blast impell'd^
High o'er the lee yardwirm the canvas swell'd ;
By spiUing-lines ^ embrac'd with brails confin'd^
It lies at length unshaken by the wind.
The fore-sail then secur'd^ with equal care
Again to reef the main-sail they repair.
While some high mounted over-haul the tye^
Below the down haul-tackle ^ others ply.
Jears^^ lifts^ and brails^ a seaman each attends ;
Along the mast the willing yard descends.
When lower'd sufficient they securely brace^
And fix the rolling-tackle in its place.
The reef-lines ^ and their earings now prepar'd^
Mounting on pliant shrouds^^ they man the yard.
Far on th' extremes two able hands appear^
Arion there^ the hardy boatswain here ;
That in the van to front the tempest hung ;
This round the lee yardwmn^ ill-omen'd ! clung :
Each earing to his station first they bend ;
The reef band ^ then along the yard extend :

^ The spillii^ lines, which are only used on particular occasions in
tempestuous weather, are employed to draw together and confine the
belly of the sail when it is inflated by the wind over the yard.

' The violence of the wind forces the 3rard so much outward from the
mast on these occasions, that it cannot be easily lowered so as to reef
the sail, without applying a tackle to haul it down on the mast. This
is afterwards converted into rolling tackle.

' Jears are the same to the mainsail, foresail, and mizzen, as the
halliards are to all the inferior sails.

* Reef lines are only used to reef the mainsail and foresail. They
are passed in spiral turns through the eyelet holes of the reef, and over
the head of the sails between the rope band legs, till they reach the
extremities of the reef, to which they are firmly extended, so as to lace
the reef close up to the yard.

* Shrouds are thick ropes stretching from the mast-heads down-
wards to the outside of the ship, serving to support the masts. They
are also used as a range of rope-ladders, by whicn the seamen ascend or
descend to perform whatever is necessary about the sails and ligffng.

' The reef band is a long piece of canvas sewed across the sail, to
strengthen the canvas in the place where the eye-let holes of the reef
are formed.

158 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

The circling earings^ round th' extremes entwin'd^
By outer and by inner turns ^ they bind.
From hand to hand^ the reef-lines next receiv'd^
Thro' eye-let holes and robin-legs were reev'd.
The reef in double folds involved they lay ;
Strain the firm cord^ and either end belay.

Hadst thou, Arion, held the leeward post.
While on the yard by mountain billows tost ;
Perhaps oblivion o'er our tragic tale
Had then for ever drawn her dusky veil ;
But ruling Heav'n prolonged thy vital date.
Severer ills to suffer and relate.

For, while their orders those aloft attend.
To furl the mainsail, or on deck descend,
A sea ^ upsurging, with tremendous roll.
To instant ruin seems to doom the whole.
" O friends, secure your hold 1 " Arion cries ;
It comes all dreadful, stooping from the skies !
Uplifted on its horrid edge, she feels
The shock, and on her side half-bury'd reels :
The sail, half-bury'd in the whelming wave,
A fearful warning to the seamen gave :
While from its margin, terrible to tell.
Three sailors with their gallant boatswain fell.
Tom with resistless fury from their hold.
In vain their struggling arms the yard enfold ;
In vain to grapple flying cords they try ;
The cords, alas ! a solid gripe deny 1
Prone on the midnight surge, with panting breath
They cried for aid, and long contend with death.
High o'er their heads the rolling billows sweep.
And down they sink in everlasting sleep.

From William Falconer's Shipwreck

^ The outer turns of the earing serve to extend the sail along the
yard ; and the inner turns are employed to confine its head rope close
to its surfisice.

' A sea is the general name given by sailors to a single wave ; when
a wave bursts over the deck, the vessel is said to have dipped a sea. —
( 7^ notes are Falconet's, )

THE CALM 159

THE CALM

Our stonn is past^ and that storm's tyrannous rage

A stupid calm^ but nothing it doth 'suage.

The fable is inverted^ and far more

A block afflicts^ now^ than a stork before.

Storms chafe^ and soon wear out themselves or us ;

In calmsy Heaven laughs to see us languish thus.

As steady as I could wish my thoughts were^

Smooth as thy mistress' glass^ or what shines there^

The sea is now^ and^ as these isles which we

Seek^ when we can move^ our ships rooted be.

As water did in storms^ now pitch runs out ;

As lead; when a fbed church becomes one spout.

And all our beauty and our trim decays^

Like courts removing^ or like ended plays.

The fighting-place now seamen's rags supply ;

And all the tackling is a frippery.

No use of lanthoms ; and in one place lay

Feathers and dust^ to-day and yesterday.

Earth's hoUownesses^ which the world's lungs are^

Have no more wind than th' upper vault of air.

We can nor lost friends nor sought foes recover^

But meteor-like^ save that we move not^ hover.

Only the calenture together draws

Dear friends^ which meet dead in great fishes maws ;

And on the hatches^ as on altars^ lies

Each one^ his own priest and own sacrifice.

Who live that miracle do multiply^

Where walkers in hot ovens do not die.

If in despite of these we swim^ that bath

No more refreshing than a brimstone hath ;

But from the sea into the ship we tum^

Like parboil'd wretches on the coals to bum.

Like Bajazet encaged^ the shepherd's scoff^

Or like slack-sinew*d Samson^ his hair off,

Languish our ships. Now as a myriad

Of ants durst th' emperor's loved snake invade^

The crawling gallies^ sea-gulls^ finny chips^

Might brave our pinnaces, now bed-rid ships.

1 60 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Whether a rotten state^ a&d hope of gain^
Or to disuse me from the queasy pain
Of being beloved and loving^ or the thirst
Of honour or fair deaths out-push'd me firsts
I lose my end ; for here^ as well as I^
A desperate may live^ and coward die.
Stag^ dog, and all which from or towards flies^
Is paid with life or prey, or domg dies.
Fate grudges us all, and doth swtly lay
A scourge, 'gainst which we all nteet to pray.
He that at sea prays for more winl^ as well
Under the poles may beg cold, heat in hell.
What are we then ? How little more, alas.
Is man now, than, before he was, he was ?
Nothing for us, we are for nothing fit ;
CSiance, or ourselves, still disproportion it.
We have no power, no will, no sense ; I lie,
I should not then thus feel this misery. j

John Donne |

NEPTUNE^ RAGING FURY, OR
THE GALLANT SEAMAN'S SUFFERINGS

You Gentlemen of England,
That live at home at ease.
Full little do you think upon
The Dangers of the Seas :
Give ear unto the Mariners,
And they will plainly show.
The cares and the fears

When the stormy winds do blow.

All you that will be Seamen,
Must bear a valiant heart.
For when you come upon the Seas,
You must not think to start :

NEPTUNE^ RAGING FURY i6l

Nor once to be fiimt>-hearted^
In hail^ or rain^ or snow^
Nor to shrink^ nor to shrink^
When, etc.

The bitter storms and tempests
Poor Seamen must endure^
Both day and night with many a fight^
We seldom rest secure :
Our sleep it is disturbed
With visions strange to know^
And with Dreams, on the Streams,
When, etc.

In clasps of roaring thunder.
Which darkness doth enforce.
We often find our Ship to stray
Beyond our wonted course :
Which causeth great distractions.
And sinks our hearts full low,
'Tis in vain to complain
When, etc.

Sometimes on Neptune's bosom.
Our Ship is lost in waves,
And every man expecting
The Sea to be their graves :
Then, up aloft she mounteth.
And down again so low,
'Tis with the waves, O with waves.
When, etc.

Then down again we fall to prayer
With all our might and thought.
When refuge all doth fail us,
'Tis that must bear us out ;
To God we call for succour.
For He it is, we know.
That must aid us and save us.
When, etc.

162 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

The Lawyer and the Usurer,
That sit in gowns of Fur,
In closets warm, can take no harm,
Abroad they need not stir ;
When winter fierce, with coM doth pierce.
And beats with hail and snow.
We are sure to endure.
When, etc.

We bring home costly merchandise.
And Jewels of great price.
To serve our English Gallantry,
With many a rare device :
To please the English Gallantry
Our pains we freely show.
For we toyl, and we moyl
When, etc.

We sometimes sail to the Indies
To fetch home Spices rare.
Sometimes again, to France and Spain
For wines beyond compare ;
While gallants are carousing
In Tavern in a row.
Then we sweep o'er the deep.
When, etc.

When tempests are blown over.
And greatest fears are past.
Ay, weather fair, and temperate air.
We straight lye down to rest ;
But, when the billows tumble.
And waves do furious grow.
Then we rouse, up we rouse.
When, etc.

If enemies oppose us.
When England is at wars,
With any foreign Nations,
We fear not wounds and scars ;

THE DISTRESSED SAILORS GARLAND 163

Our roaring guns shall teach 'em
Our Valour for to know,
Whilst they reel, in the Keel,
When, etc.

We are no cowardly shrinkers.
But Englishmen true bred.
We'll play our parts with valiant hearts,
And never fly for dread ;
We'll ply our business nimbly.
Where'er we come or go.
With our Mates to the Straights,
When, etc.

Then courage, all brave Marriners,
And never be dismaid.
Whilst we have bold adventurers.
We ne'er shall want a trade ;
Our Merchants will imploy us.
To fetch them wealth, I know.
Then be bold, work for gold,
^ When, etc.

When we return in safety.
With wages for our pains.
The Tapster and the Vintner
Will help to share our gains ;
We'll call for liquor roundly.
And pay before we go.
Then we'll roar on the shore.

When the stormy winds do blow.

Martyn Parker

THE DISTRESSED SAILOR'S GARLAND

When first I drew the breath of life,
'Twas in the merry month of June,
The fourteenth day as I am told.
When flowers they were in their bloom ;

1 64 A SAILOR'S OAKLAND

It was in seventeen hundred and five,
(That was the very date of the year).
My parents did for me provide
The best of learning I declare.

When I grew up they askM me,

" What trade must we prepare for thee ? "

My answer was to them again,

" I mean to range the roaring sea ; "

My whimsical brain did falsely show

The pleasures men enjoy at sea.

But oh, the sorrow, grief, and woe.

They suffer in extremity.

If there be pleasure on the sea,
'Tis when the wind and weather's fair.
With a bowl of punch, ^' Here's to thee. Jack,"
" Thanks, Tom, let's drink to drown all care."
Hardships full well we know there be.
From which we dare not flinch, you know.
Dark dismal nights, and lofty sea,
Contrary winds, hail, rain, and snow.

When we are on the roaring main.
The wind right aft and a pleasant gale.
We have our wish and heart's desire,
'Tis then we spread a crowd of sail ;
Our mainsail hauled up in the brails.
Our foresails drive us clearly through.
Main topsails and top-gallant sails
We'll hoist and make a gallant show.

Fore and fore topsail stunsails set.
So cheerily then we drive along ;
When this is done then down we sit.
To a bowl of punch and a merry song :
We drink a health unto our wives.
The pretty girls our sweethearts, too.
The captain and the officers.
Our good-like ship and jovial crew.

THE DISTRESSED SAILOR'S GARLAND i«5

The wind won't standi I am afraid^
It beareth forward stOl^ I see^
Get the fore tack to the cat-head
And ride it down with a passaree ;
Down studding sails^ alow and aloft^
And lay them by in the tops a while^
And hoist your staysails fore and aft^
And trim your sails all to the wind.

Oh^ now she'll hardly lie her course^
'Tis better get our tack on boards
Our sheets close aft and bowlines hauled^
And all things handily prepared ;
We must expect to head the sea.
The foaming billows break and roar.
Like hills and death they look, you see.
And now our pleasant sailing's o'er.

It was " Steady, steady " ; now 'tis " Luff,"
And '^ Don't fall off," and " Thus, no near."
The grampus blows, the rigging squeaks.
The sky looks dismal, I declare.
So in top-gallant sails, my boys.
Haul down your topmast staysails, too.
We'll meet a tartar, I'm afraid.
We'll settle our three topsails now.

Come, boys, we'll reef whilst we have time.

Let go your topsail halliards now.

Your main and fore top bowlines are gone.

Let in your weather braces now ;

And spill the sails, my hearts of gold.

And haul out your reef-tackles too.

For it will blow, I plainly see.

So clew them up whilst you are below.

Three single reefs in each topsail.

And then we'll furl them, 'tis agreed.

So bear a hand, my hearts of gold.

And make haste down with a nimble speed ;

1 66 A SAILORS GARLAND

And see the geers cleared fore and aft,
The downhaul tackles hooked also^
And all things readily prepared
Both up aloft and here below.

Brail up the mizzen snug^ my boys^
So, cheerily lower away the yard.
The petrel shows herself, I vow,
Which tells us plainly it will blow hard :
You nimble fellow at the helm,
Pray keep her under your command,
A good rack full and away with her,
"No near," my boys, "no near you can."

A good hand stand to the main sheet.
And seeiall clear to let her fly ;
It looks as thick as buttermilk.
And will be with us by and by ;
So hard-a-weather goes the helm.
Let fly your main sheet now with speed,
The furious squall will soon be over.
It breaks apace you may perceive.

So gather aft your sheet again.
Look round, my boys, let's lose no ground.
The sky looks dark and dismal wet.
We'll surely lower our foreyard down.
So forward now, my hearts of gold.
See clear the lifts in the first place ;
A sturdy fellow to the geers.
Strength is required at the brace.

The down haul tackles must be manned.
Clew garnets, bowlines, leech-lines too.
Loose off the sheet, let's rise the jack ;
Come now, my boys, and raise her clew ;
Belay the lifts, secure the yards.
And up aloft and furl him snug.
Coil up your ropes and then lay aft ;
We'll all hands tipple the nut-brown jug.

THE DISTBESSED SAILORS GARLAND 167

'Tis now our helm is lashed a-lee^
And all securely fast aloft :
You at the helm^ pray mind the glass^
How she comes up^ likewise falls off;
The gale increases stronger stilly
It blows a reef in our mainsail^
By one consent let us reef it now,
Let sailors' courage never fail.

So to your stations, now, my boys,
And stand by, sailors, every one.
So, cheerly lower away the yard.
Check in your brace, the bowline's gone ;
When this is done, then down we come.
To see what more we have to do.
We'll lose our mizzen now, my boys.
We'll balance him and set him too.

Now it is balanced in a trice.
Sway up the yard, haul aft the sheet.
No sooner set but away she flies ;
And leaves the bolt-rope in his stead.
Our ship lies-to most dangerously.
All in the trough of the roaring sea.
Which takes us on our broadside.
And over us makes a passage free.

The sea does run prodigiously.

For God's sake, boys, what must we do ?

You see the danger we are in,

'Tis better sound than thus lie-to.

By one consent let it be agreed.

In readiness prepare all things,

And bunt the foresail securely fast.

And we will scud under our goose-wings.

THE SECOND PART

So hard a weather goes the helm ;
Ho ! Will she wear, or will she not ?
Away she flies before the wind, —
She veers apace, thanks to Fortune kind ;

|68 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Sway up the 3rard, haul aft the sheet.
Belay the braces, make all fast ;
Two able sailors to the helm.
It blows a hurricane at last.

Steady, steady is the cry.

Pray mind your helm, and steady, starboard.

Away she fiies, meet her again.

And stop her there, now, hard a-larboard :

Pray, mind the motion of her head,

For your sake, boys, don't broach her to.

For all our lives lie at the stake.

Our goodly ship and jovial crew.

No sooner spoke, but to she flies,
Alas, we drove but all in vain.
She ships it green, and down she lies.
As if she'd never rise again :
And now, in all our great distress.
We cut our mizen mast away.
Thinking to right her once again.
'Tis all in vain, so down she lay.

The gale increases stronger still.

More grief to us it does afford ;

To have our lives and goodly ship.

We cut our mainmast by the board :

The seas we shipped were wondrous high.

They staved our boat in pieces smaU,

Of all our lofty rearing masts.

Our foremast stood, and that was all.

THE THIRD PART.

The wind is down, the weather's fair.
Oh, what a blessed change is this.
Strike open ports, let in the air.
Oh, sound and see what leak there is.
Oh, carpenter, come rig the pump.
'Tis nought, we'll quickly pump her free :
We'll dry our clothes by the gaUey-fire
After their soaking in the sea.

A GALE OF WIND 169

We are near to port, the sailors cry,
I see the spire beyond the rocks.
At anchor very soon we'll lie,
Delivered from the ocean's shocks.
With good rum punch we'll play our part,
With pretty girls we'll love to be.
We are never rightly satisfied
But when in their sweet company.

And to conclude, and make an end.

If I had known as much before,

I would have cried, " Sweep ! Chimney Sweep !

And " Black your Shoes," from door to door —

Before I had gone upon the sea.

Where foaming billows loud do roar ;

So all young men be warned by me.

And always live upon the shore.

A GALE OF WIND

Loud Boreas opened wide his mouth.

And puffed the Frigate toward the south.

Puff after puff grew more severe.

And still it thicken'd in the clear.

But while it for their course was fair.

One straw our Hero did not care ;

Tho' he was of another mind

When once they came to haul their wind.

'Twas his dog-watch from six to eight.

Relieved from deck, he turned in straight.

But such a screeching still did keep

The Beams and Guns, he could not sleep.

He yawned and turned times without number.

In feverish, restless, painful slumber ;

The 'tween-decks, too, was stifling hot.

And John a midship birth had got ;

Just o'er his head there was a leak

Which often dripped upon his cheek ;

17 o A SAILORS GARLAND

Then water down the hatchways gashing,
And chests adrift athwart-ships rushing.
And clanking Pumps, and tones hke thunder.
Exclaiming — '' Bouse ! " or, '^ Stand from under ! "
Made up a concert so composing,
'Twas odd that John was shy of dozing ;
In short, to shorten much our tale.
We'll say at once, it blew a gale. —

At four o'clock, with great coat dripping.
The Quarter-Master came down tripping.
And by the head-clues holding on
To stay himself, awakened John. —

Quoth John ^^ Pray tell me, how's the weather ? "

" It blows, rains, thunders, all together ;

You'd best heave out. Sir, — I expect
The hands will soon be called on deck ;
The Captain's there now — and the Master ;
The squalls come faster on, and faster ! "
Quoth John — ^^ Tho' all night long this rout
Has kept me waking— here's turn out ! "—

When down on deck his feet he set.
Slap o'er his ankles came the wet ;
For all the steerage was on float ;
" Confound it all, where's my great coat ? "
John soon discover'd, to his cost.
That his warm Flushing Coat was lost ;
So, at the hazard of his neck.
He crawled up to the Quarter-deck,
There, by the life-lines held on fast.
And stared astonished and aghast ;
The foaming seas, the roaring wind.
The hail and lightning, all combined :
The ship that sometimes seemed to rise
As if she'd pierce the sable skies.
Now down the black abyss to glide.
Now hang suspended on its side.
Amazed him ! — Every lurch she gave
The gangways rolled beneath the wave.

A GALE OF WIND 171

And large blue seas each other chased^

Cascading over down the waist. —

At every pitch he held his breath

As if he saw the face of death ; —

Amidst the roar there came a crash^ —

" She's pitched away a Top-mast^ smash ! "

All hands to clear away the wrecks

Were in an instant turned on deck ;

From hammock starting out alert,

Up flew each seaman in his shirt !

John said it really did him good

To see their reckless hardihood ;

— And up the straining shrouds they swarm^

Growling and swearing at the storm

The wreck secured^ or cut away,
She snug beneath a trysail lay.

At eight, in spite of John's alarm,

Breakfast he thought would do no harm.
But sorry was he, and surprised.
To find the Tea-kettle capsized.
The water pouring all about,
Had put the swinging stove quite out :
" 'Tis useless fretting," John did cry —
" We've got for Dinner a Sea-pie."
At twelve o'clock, he hoped at last
To make a delicate repast.

The Peasebags, Ridgelines on the Table,
To save the Dishes scarce were able.
So Johnny, like his messmates, sate
With one hand holding fast his plate.
Himself beneath the Scuttle seating.
That he might see what he was eating ;
And faith he thought himself quite subtle.
To get a birth so near the scuttle.

Down came the saucepan— -John, we ween.
As any Tiger-cat was keen ;

172 A SAILORS GARLAND

But^ oh ! his tenn of joy was soon up^
For scarcely had he ta'en his spoon up^
When^ lo ! a sea with vengeful stroke
The scuttle glass to shivers broke !
One second filled the cabin brimming^
And set^ like ^gs^ the Reefers swimming.
They soon escaped^ but John was bother'd
So to get out^ he was half smother'd^ —
The Flushing coat he'd missed that mom^
Now reappeared on torrent bome^
From some dark nook it floated out,
All sopped, just like a large dish-clout,
And in the lieu of some old rug
Or swab^ 'twas used for scuttle plug ;
In which capacity 'twas fated
To serve until it moderated.—- >

Drenched^ hungry, tired, 5cim wished for close
Of day, that he might get repose ;
But when he did his hammock seek,

'Twas wringing wet through, from the leak.

Nor ceased his fag, when daylight ceased.
The fury of the gale increased.
Until at length, as aft she sent.
The collar of the Forestay went ;
To save the Masts while yet they stood.
Dale chose immediately to scud :
By much dexterity and care
They safely brought the ship to wear ;
Away I she shot before the wind.
Fast followed by the surge behind. —

■All cold on deck — ^all wet below —

Our hero knew not where to go !
And in no enviable plight
You may believe he passed the night. —
Capt. Jack Mftford, R,N.
(^Adventures of Johnny Nefvcome in the Navy)

THE BENJAMIN'S LAMENTATIONS 173
THE BENJAMIN'S LAMENTATIONS

FOR THEIR SAD LOSS AT SEA BY STORMS AND TEMPESTS

Captain Chilver's gone to Sea^

I Boys, O Boys,
With all his Company, I.
Captain Chilver's gone to Sea,
With all his Company,

In the brave Benjamin, 0«

Thirty Guns the Ship did bear,

I Boys, O Boys,
They were bound for Venice fair, I.
Thirty guns his Ship did bear.
And a hundred men so dear.

In the brave Benjamin, O.

But by ill Storms at Sea.

I Bo3rs, O Boys,
Which bred our Misery, I.
But by ill Storms at Sea,
We were drove out o' th' way.

In the brave Benjamin, O.

We had more Wind than we could bear,

I Boys, O Boys,
Our Ship it would not steer, I,
We had more Wind that we could bear.
Our Masts and Sails did tear

In the poor Ber^anUn, O.

The first harm that we had,

I Boys, O Boys,
It makes my heart so sad, I.
The first harm we had.
We lost our fore-mast head,

O, the poor Benjamin, O.

174 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

The Seas aloud did roar,

I Boys, O Boys,
We being far from shore, I.
The Sea no favour shows
Unto Friends or Foes,

O, the poor Benjamin, O.

The next harm that we spy'd,

I Boys, O Boys,
Then we to Heaven cry'd, I.
Down fell our Main-mast head.
Which struck our senses dead.

In the poor Benjamin, O.

Thus we with Seas were crost,

I Boys, O Boys,
And on the Ocean tost, I.
Thus we with Seas were tost,
Many a brave man was lost.

In the poor Benjamin, O.

The next harm that we had,

I Boys, O Boys,
We had cause to be sad, I.
The next harm that we had.
We lost four men from the yard.

In the poor Benjamin, O.

Disabled as I name,

I Boys, O Boys,
We were drove on the Main, I.
So the next harm we had.
We lost our Rudder's head

In the poor Benjamin, O.

Then we all fell to Prayer,

I Boys, O Boys,
The Lord our lives would spare, I.
Then we fell to Prayer,
And He at last did hear.

Us in the Benjamin, O,

THE LEADSMAN'S SONG 175

Although we sail'd in fear^

I Boys, O Boys,
The Lord our Ship did steer, I.
Our Prayers so fervent were.
That we had passage clear.

Into brave Plymouth Sound, O.

We came to Plymouth Sound,

I Boys, O Boys,
Our hearts did then resound, I. *
When we came to Plymouth Sound
Our grief with joy was crown'd.

In the poor Benjamin, O.

When we came all on shore,

I Boys, O Boys,
Every Man at his door, I.
When we came all on shore.
Our grief we did deplore.

In the poor Benjamin, O.

You gallant Young-men all,

I Boys, O Boys,
*Tis unto you I call, I.
Likewise brave Seamen all.
Lament the loss and fall.

Of the poor Benjamin, O,

THE LEADSMAN'S SONG

For England, when with favouring gale.
Our gallant ship up Channel steered.
And scudding, under easy sail.
The high blue western lands appeared.
To heave the lead the seaman sprang.
And to the pilot cheerly sang
'' By the deep— Nine."

176 A SAILORS GARLAND

And bearing up to gain the port^
Some well-known object kept in view.
An abbey tower, a ruined fort,
A beacon to the vessel true.
While oft the lead the seaman flung.
And to the pilot cheerly sung,
" By the mark — Seven."

And as the much-loved shore we near,
With transport we behold the roof
Where dwelt a friend or partner dear.
Of faith and love and matchless proof.
The lead once more the seaman nung.
And to the watchful pilot sung,
'^ Quarter less— Five."

Now to her berth the ship draws nigh.
With slackened sail she feels the tide.
Stand clear the cable is the cry.
The anchor's gone, we safely ride.
The watch is set, and through the night.
We hear the seaman with delight
Proclaim—" AU's well."

CHRISTMAS AT SEA

The sheets were frozen hard, and they cut the naked

hand;
The decks were like a slide, where a seaman scarce could

stand;
The wind was a nor'-wester, blowing squally off the sea ;
And chffs and spouting breakers were the only things

a-lee.

They heard the surf a-roaring before the break of day ;
But 'twas only with the peep of light we saw how ill we lay.
We tumbled every hand on deck instanter, with a shout.
And we gave her the maintops'l, and stood by to go
about.

CHRISTMAS AT SEA 177

All day we tacked and tacked between the South Head

and the North ;
All day we hauled the frozen sheets^ and got no further

forth;
All day as cold as charity^ in bitter pain and dread^
For very life and nature we tacked from head to head.

We gave the South a wider berth, for there the tide race
roared;

But every tack we made brought the North Head close
aboard:

So's we saw the cliffs and houses, and the breakers run-
ning high,

And the coastguard in his garden, with his glass against
his eye.

The frost was on the village roofs as white as ocean

foam;
The good red fires were burning bright in every 'long

shore home ;
The windows sparkled clear, and the chimneys volleyed

out;
And I vow we sniffed the victuals as the vessel went about.

The bells upon the church were rung with a mighty jovial

cheer ;
For it's just that I should tell you how (of all days in the

year)
This day of our adversity was blessM Christmas mom.
And the house above the coastguard's was the house

where I was bom.

O well I saw the pleasant room, the pleasant faces there,
My mother's silver spectacles, my father's silver hair ;
And well I saw the firelight, like a flight of homely elves.
Go dancing round the china plates that stand upon the
shelves.

178 A SAILORS GARLAND

And well I knew the talk they had. the talk that was of me^
Of the shadow on the household and the son that went to

sea;
And O the wicked fool I seemed^ in every kind of way^
To be here and hauling frozen ropes on blessed Christmas

Day.

They lit the high sea>light^ and the dark began to fall.
" All hands to loose topgallant sails/' I heard the captain

caa
'* By the Lord^ she'll never stand it/' our first mate, Jackson,

cried,
• . • /' It's the one way or the other, Mr. Jackscm," he

replied.

She staggered to her bearings, but the sails were new and

good.
And the ship smelt up to windward, just as though she

understood.
As the winter s day was ending, in the entry of the night.
We cleared the weary headlsuid, and passed below the

light.

And they heaved a mighty breath, every soul on board but

me.
As they saw her nose again pointing handsome out to sea ;
But all that I could think of, in the darkness and the cold.
Was just that I was leaving home and my folks were
growing old.

Robert Louis Stevenson
(Ballads 1)

THE WHALE

It was in the year of ninety-four, in March the twentieth

day.
Our gallant tars their anchors weigh'd, and for sea they
bore away.

Brave boys.
And for sea they bore away.

^ Published by Messrs. Cbatto k Windus.

TH« WHALE 1^9

Speedicut was our captain's name^ our ship was the Lyon

bold.
And we have gone to sea, brave boys, to face the storm

and cold,

To face the storm and the cold.

When that we came to the cold country where the frost

and the snow did lie^
Where the frost, and the snow, and the whale-fish so blue,
and the daylight's never gone.
Brave boys.
And the daylight's never gone.

Our boatswain went to topmast high, with his spy-glass in

his hand,
^* A whale, a whale, a whale," he did cry, ^' and she blows at
every span.

Brave bojrs,
She blows at every span."

Our captain stood on the quarter-deck, and a clever little

man was he,
'^ Overhaul, overhaul, let the wind-tackle fall, and to
launch your boats so free.
Brave boys.
And to launch your boats so free ! "

There's harpoon eers, and line coilers, and line ^ colecks also,
There's boat-steerers and sailors brave.
To the whale, to where she blows, to the whale, to where
she blows.

Brave boys.
To the whale, to where she blows.

We struck the whale, and away she went, casts a flourish

with her tail.
But, Oh, and alas, we've lost one man, and we did not kill
that whale

Brave boys.
And we did not kill that whale

^80 in my original.

l8o A SAILOR'S GARLAND

When that the news to our captain it did come^ a sorrowful

man was he^
For the losing of his prentice boy^ and down his colours
drew he.

Brave boys
And down his colours drew he.

Now, my lads, don't be amazed for the losing of one man ;
For fortune it will take its place, let a man do all he can.
Brave boys,
Let a man do all he can.

SPANISH LADIES

Farewell and adieu to you, fine Spanish ladies.
Farewell and adieu to you, ladies of Spain ;

For we have received orders

For to sail to old England,
And perhaps we shall never more see you again.

We'll rant and we'll roar, like true British sailors.
We'll rant and we'll roar across the salt seas ;
Until we strike soundings
In the Channel of old England,
From Ushant to Scilly 'tis thirty-five leagues.

We hove our ship to, with the wind at sou'west, boys.
We hove our ship to, for to strike soundings clear ;

Then we filled the main topsail

And bore right away, boys.
And straight up the Channel our course we did steer.

And the first land we made, it is called the Deadman,
Next Ram Head, off Plymouth, Start, Portland, and
the Wight ;

We sail-ed by Beachy,

By Fairly and Dungeness,
And then bore away for the South Foreland light.

THE GREENWICH PENSIONER i8i

Now the signal was made for the grand fleet to

anchor^
All in the Downs that night for to meet ;

Then stand by your stoppers^

See clear your shank painters.
Haul all your clew garnets, stick out tacks and sheets.

Now let every man take off his full bumper.
Let every man take off* his full bowl ;

For we will be jolly.

And drown melancholy,
With a health to each jovial and true-hearted soul.

THE GREENWICH PENSIONER

'TwAS in the good ship Rover,

I sailed the world all round.
And for three years and over

I ne'er touched British ground ;
At length in England landed,

I left the roaring main.
Found all relations stranded.

And went to sea again,

And went to sea again.

That time bound straight for Portugal,

Right fore and aft we bore.
But when we made Cape Ortegal,

A gale blew off* the shore ;
She lay, so did it shock her,

A log upon the main.
Till, saved from Davy's locker.

We put to sea again.

Next sailing in a frigate

I got my timber toe.
I never more shall jig it

As once I used to do ;

l82 A SAILOR'S 6ABLAND

My leg w«g shot off fairly^
AU by a ship of Spain ;

But I could swab the galley>
I went to sea againj
I went to sea again.

And still I am enabled
To bring up in the rear,

Although I'm quite disabled
And lie in Grreenwich tier.

There's schooners in the river
A riding to the chain^

But I shall never^ ever
Put out to sea again^
Put out to sea again.

A COMFORTABLE SONG ON THE POOR

SAILORS

(1794)

How little do the landmen know.

What we poor sailors feel.
When waves do mount and winds do blow.

But we have hearts of steel :
No danger can affright us.

No enemy shall flout.
We'll make the Monsieurs right us,

So toss the can about.

Stick close to orders, messmates.

We'll plunder, bum, and sink.
Then, France, have at your first-rates.

For Britons never shrink ;
We'll rummage all we fancy,

We'll bring them in by scores.
And Moll and Kate and Nancy,

Shall roll in louis d'ors.

PORT ADMIRAL 183

While here at Deal we're lying.

With our noble Commodore^
We'll spend our wages free, boys,

And then to sea for more :
In peace we'll drink and sing, boys.

In war we'll never fly.
Here's a health to George the King, boys,

And the Royal Family.

SAILORS DELIGHT

How happy are we now the wind is abaft.
And the Boatswain he pipes, " Haul both our sheets aft."
Steady," says the Master, " it blows a fresh gale.
We'll soon reach our port, boys.
If the wind doth not fail " :
Then drink about, Tom,
Although the ship roll.
We'll save our rich liquor
By slinging our bowl.

PORT ADMIRAL

'TwAs at the landing-place that's just below Mount

Wyse,
Poll lean'd against the sentry's box, a tear in both her

eyes;
Her apron twisted round her arms, all for to keep them

warm.
Being a windy Christmas Day, and also a snowstorm.
And Bet and Sue
Both stood there too,

A-shivering by her side ;
They both were dumb.
And both look'd glum,

As they watch'd the ebbing tide.

1 84 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Poll put her arms a-kimbo^

At the admirars house look'd she^
To thoughts before in limbo

She now a vent gave free.
You have sent the ship in a gale to work^

On a lee shore to be jamm'd^
I'll give you a piece of my mind^ old Turk,

Port Admiral, you be d d.

Chorus.

We'll give you a piece of our mind, old Turk,
Port Admiral, you be d d.

Who ever heard in the sarvice of a frigate made to sail
On Christmas Day, it blowing hard, with sleet, and snow,

and hail ?
I wish I had the fishing of your back that is so bent,
I'd use the galley poker hot unto your heart's content
Here Bet and Sue
Are with me too,

A-shivering by my side ;
They both are dumb.
And both look glum,

And watch the ebbing tide.
Poll put her arms a-kimbo.

At the admiral's house look'd she.
To thoughts that were in limbo

She now a vent gave free.
You've got a roaring fire, I'll bet.

In it your toes are jamm'd :
Let's give him a pieci of our mind, my Bet,
Port Admiral, you be d d.

Chorus.

Let's give him a piece of our mind, my Bet,
Port Admiral, you be d— d.

I had the flour and plums all pick'd, and suet all chopp'd

fine,
To mix into a pudding rich for all the mess to dine ;

PORT ADMIRAL 185

I pawn'd my ear-rings for the beef, it weigh'd at least a

stone,
Now my fancy man is sent to sea, and I am left alone.
Here's Bet and Sue
Who stand here too,

A-shivering by my aide ;
They both are dumb.
They both look glum.

And watch the ebbing tide.
Poll put her arms a-kimbo.

At the admiral's house look'd she.
To thoughts that were in limbo.

She now a vent gave free.
You've got a turkey, I'll be bound.

With which you will be cramm'd ;
I'll give you a bit of my mind, old hound,

Port Admiral, you be d d.

Chorus,

I'll give you a bit of my mind, old hound.
Port Admiral, you be d d.

I'm sure that in this weather they cannot cook their meat.
To eat it raw on Christmas Day will be a pleasant treat ;
But let us all go home, girls ; it's no use waiting here.
We'll hope that Christmas Day to come they will have
better cheer.

So Bet and Sue,
Don't stand here too,

A-shivering by my side :
Don't keep so dumb.
Don't look so glum,

Nor watch the ebbing tide.
Poll put her arms a-kimbo.

At the admiral's house look'd she.
To thoughts that were in limbo

She now a vent gave free.
So while they cut their raw salt junks.
With dainties you'll be cramm'd,

1 80 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

Here's once for all my mind^ old hunks^
Port Admiral, you be d — — d.

Chorus.

So once for all our mind, old hunks.

Port Admiral, you be d d.

Frederick Marryat

THE CAPTAIN STOOD ON THE CARRONADE

The Captain stood on the carronade — " First lieutenant,"

says he,
'^ Send all my merry men aft here, for they must list to

me:
I haven't the gift of the gab, my sons — because I'm bred

to the sea ;
That ship there is a Frenchman, who means to fight with

we.
Odds blood, hammer and tongs, long as I've been to sea,
I've fought 'gainst every odds — ^but I've gain'd the

victory.

'^ That ship there is a Frenchman, and if we don't take

she,
'Tis a thousand bullets to one, that she will capture we ;
I haven't the gift of the gab, my boys ; so each man to

his gun;
If she's not mine in half an hour, I'll flog each mother's

son.
Odds bobs, hammer and tongs, long as I've been to sea,
I've fought 'gainst every odds — and I've gain'd the

victory.

We fought for twenty minutes, when the Frenchmen had

enough ;
** I little thought," said he, ^^ that your men were of such

stuff; "

THE PRESS-GANG 187

The captain took the Frenchman's sword^ a low bow made

to he;
'^ I haven*t the gift of the gab^ monsieur^ but polite I wish
to be.
Odds bobs^ hammer and tongs^ long as I're been to sea^
I've fought 'gainst every odds — and I've gain'd the
victory."

Our captain sent for all of us ; ** My meny men/' said he^
'^ I haven't the gift of the gab^ my lads^ but yet I thankftd

be;
You've done your duty handsomely^ each man stood to

his gun;
If you hadn't^ you villains^ as sure as day^ I'd have flogg'd
each mother's son.
Odds bobs^ hammer and tongs^ as long as I'm at sea,
I'll fight 'gainst every odds — and I'll gain the victory."

Frederick Marryat

THE PRESS-GANG

Here's the tender coming.

Pressing all the men ;
O, dear honey.

What shall we do then ?
Here's the tender coming,

Off at Shields Bar.
Here's the tender coming.

Full of men of war.

Here's the tender coming.
Stealing of my dear ;
O dear honey.

They'll ship you out of here.
They'll ship you foreign.

For that is what it means.

Here's the tender coming.
Full of red marines.

1 88 A SAILORS GARLAND

CAPTAIN BOVER

Where have you been, my canny honey ?
Where have you been, my winsome man ?

I've been to the norrard,

Crui2ing back and forrard,

I've been to the norrard.
Cruizing sore and lang.

I've been to the norrard.

Cruizing back and forrard,
But I dare not come ashore.

For Bover and his gang.

THE FLASH FRIGATE

I SING of a frigate, a frigate of fame.

And in the West Indies she bore a great name

For cruel hard treatment of every degree.

Like slaves in the gallies we ploughed the salt sea.

At four in the morning our day's work's begun,
'' Come lash up your hanunocks, boys, ev-er-y one,"
Seven turns with the lashing so equal must show.
And all of one size through a hoop they must go.

The next thing we do is to holystone decks,
Mizzen-topmen from the fore-hatch their buckets must

fetch ;
And its '' Fore and main-topmen," so loudly they bawl,
'^ Come broom aft the sand with your squilgees and alL"

The decks being scrubbed, and the riggmg coiled down.
It is now, '' Clean your bright work," which is found all

around.
Your gun-caps and aprons so neatly must shine.
And in white frocks and trousers you must all toe a line.

THE MAN-O^WAR 189

The next thing we hear is ^^ All hands to make sail^"
'* Way aloft/' and « lay out/' and « let fall " is the hail,
O your royals, and your skysails, and your moonsails so

high.
At the sound of the call they must all be let fly.

But now, my brave boys, comes the best of the fun :
'' All hands about ship and reef topsails," in one.
O it's " lay aloft topmen," as the helium goes down.
And it's ^'clew down your topsails/' as the mainyard
swings round.

" Trice up, and lay out, and take two reefs in one,"
And all in a moment this work must be done.
Then man your head-braces, topsail-halliards, and all.
And it's ^' hoist away topsails/' as you ^^ let go and hauL"

Our senior lieutenant, you all know him well.

He comes upon deck, and he cuts a great swell.

O, it's ^^ bear a hand here, boys," and " mind what you're

at/'
And at the lee gangway he serves out the cat.

There is no games aboard her, and so you will find.

If you spit on her decks, why, your death-warrant's signed.

So all you bold seamen who sail the salt sea.

Beware of this frigate wherever you be.

THE MAN-O^WAR

He that has sail'd upon the dark blue sea
Has view'd at times, I ween, a full fair sight ;
When the fresh breeze is fair as breeze may be,
The white sail set, the gallant frigate tight ;
Masts, spires, and strand retiring to the right.
The glorious main expanding o'er the bow.
The convoy spread like wild swans in their flight.
The dullest sailer wearing bravely now.
So gaily curl the waves before each dashing prow.

190 A SAILORS GARLAND

And oh^ the little warlike world within !
The wdl-reeved guns^ the netted canopy^
The hoarse command^ the busy humming din^
When^ at a word^ the tops are manned on high :
Hark to the Boatswain's call^ the cheering cry !
While through the seaman's hand the tackle glides ;
Or schoolboy Midshipifian that, standing by.
Strains his shrill pipe as good or ill betidesi
And well the docile crew that skilful urchin guides.

White is the glassy deck, without a stain.
Where on the watch the staid Lieutenant walks :
Look on that part which sacred doth remain
For the lone chieftain, who majestic stalks.
Silent and fear'd by all — ^not oft he talks
With aught beneath him, if he would preserve
That strict restraint, which broken, ever balks
Conquest and fame : but Britons rarely swerve
From law, however stem, which tends their strength to
nerve. Lord Byron

(ChUde Harold's Pilgrimage)

JACK ROBINSON

(To the tune of College H&mpipe)

The perils and dangers of the voyage past.
And the ship to Portsmouth arrived at last ;
The sails all furled, and the anchor cast.
The happiest of the crew was Jack Robinson,
For his Poll he had trinkets and gold galore.
Besides of prize-money quite a store ;
And along with the crew he went ashore.
As coxwain to the boat, Jack Robinson,

He met with a man, and said, ^' I say.

Mayhap you may know one, Polly Gray ?

She lives somewhere hereabouts : " — the man said^ ''Nay,

*'Ido not, indeed," to Jack Bobmson.

JACK ROBINSON 10 1

Says Jack to him^ ^^ I've left my ship^
And to my messmates given the slip^
Mayhap you'll partake of a good can of flip^
For you're a civil follofv," says Jack Robinson.

In a public-house then they both sat down^

And talked of Admirals of high renown^

And drank as much grog as came to half-a-crown^

This here strange man and Jack Robinson,

Then Jack called out the reckoning to pay^

The landlady came in^ in fine array^

** My eyes and limbs^ why, here's Polly Gray ;

Who'd thought of meeting here ? " says Jack Robinson,

The landlady staggered back against the wall.
And at first she said she knew him not at all ;
" Shiver me/* says Jack, " why, here's a pretty squall,
" Damme, don't you know poor Jack Robinson f
Don't you know this handkerchief you gave to me,
*Twas three years ago, before I went to sea ;
Every day I look'd at it, and thought of thee>
Upon my soul, I have/' says Jack Robinson,

Says the lady, says she, " I've changed my state/'
^' Why, you don't mean/' says Jack, ^^that you've got

a mate.
You know you promised me." — Says she, " I couldn't

wait.
For no tidings could I gain of you, Jack Robinson,
And somebody one day came to me, and said.
That somebody else had somewhere read.
In some newspaper as how you was dead ; "
^^ Fve not been dead at all," says Jack Robinson,

Then he turned his quid and finished his glass.
And hitched up his trousers : " Alas, alas !
That ever I should live to be made such an ass.
To be biUced by a woman," says Jack Robinson,
" But to fret and stew about it much is all in vain,
I'll get a ship and go to Holland, France, and Spain,
No matter where, to Portsmouth, I'll never come again."
And he was off before they could say Jack Robinson,

Thomas Hudson

192 A SAILORS GARLAND

THE FIGHT

The look-out Seaman loudly bawled^
And Johnny to himself recalled !
To th' Officer the seaman said^
*^ I see a sail^ Sir^ right ahead ! —
She*s running large on t'other tack^ Sir ! —
She'll be on board us in a cracky Sir ! —
She is, too," mutter'd low the Sailor,
'* A man-oj-mar — or I'm a Tailor ! "

^* Zounds ! " cried the other in a rout,
'* Turn up the watch to go about ! —
Young Gentlemen I quick ! quick. Sir ! fly !
And tell the Captain what we spy." —
John soon returned, and took his place
As usual by the cross-jack brace —
Round came the ship, and when about,
The Captain bade them to hang out
Two Lanthoms of an equal height ;
The private signal for the night —
Which, plain 'twas, was not comprehended
]^ those for whom it was intended. —
Tne Drummer then to Quarters beat —
The Quarter-Masters fast and neat
Stowed all the Hammocks in the netting —

'^ She's bearing up, and Studd'ng Sails setting ! "

The Look-outs cri«i then growFd — " And why !

Why, 'cause she is an Enemy !

What makes her else run down to leeward ? "

^The topsail sheets and yards secured ;

The fighting Lanthoms one by one
Disposed by every main-deck gun ;
The swabs, and sand in buckets ready.
The Decks to damp — and Footing steady ;
Each hatch close down — and woollen skreens
Nailed up to save the Magazines ;
The Surgeons in the Cockpit set
With Knife, and Saw, and Tourniquet ;

THE FIGHT 193

And other duties numberless
Which we can't easily express^
Being all arranged in order due^
And duly all reported too ;
Lieutenant Smart with satisfaction
Pronounced the Frigate fit for action ;
Which having to the Captain stated.
He with his trumpet anxious waited.

Many a night-glass with keen intent
Upon the stranger had been bent ;
She was a Rogue they did not doubt ;
But then her force was not made out ;
She might, for aught they could divine.
Be single deck'd, or of the Line. —
But they rejoiced when Captain Dale
Told Smart to wear and make all sail —
They knew their Captain was no starter,
Yet far too keen to catch a Tartar ;
And therefore guessed he would not close
The Chase before the dawn arose.
But Mr. Smart, in far less time
Than we've been hammering out this rhyme.
Wore ship, made sail too in a trice.
Without once asking their advice. —

With little trouble, through the night
They kept the Stranger well in sight.
And towards mom found her, by the glass,
A Frigate of the largest class ;
Yet very doubt^l was the sequel.
Their rate of sailing seemed so equal ;
Whene'er the wind appeared to die.
Away, the other seemed to fly ;
But when it freshened up again.
They hoped their object to attain.

Just as the morning watch was done
A firm top-gallant breeze came on.
And 'twas no more a question called
If they the other overhauled ;

194 A SAILORS GARLAND

Nay 'twas so plain^ that now the Chase^
To do things with a decent grace^
Since running could no more avails
Haul'd close up^ under easy sail. —

A Flag he hoisted at the Fore^
And at his Peak the Tricolor :
The Capricorn's, when up it went,
With three hurrahs their welcome sent :
Thought they — " Jean Crappeaus mighty stout.
He surely means to fight it out." —
Our Frigate's kites were just ta'en in.
When he thought proper to begin. —

His Broadside made a precious row.
As she bore down, against her bow ;
But when she quietly had got
Her distance, scarce a pistol shot
Upon his weather beam, why then.
Our Frigate talked to him again. —

-Upon the Quarter-Deck stands John,

In quality of Aid-du-Camp —
We wiU not tell you how he feels.
Whether he stands on head or heels.
Just now 'twould puzzle him to tell —
Yet not through fear — ^we know full well.
It is not terror, but amaze
That makes him shake his ears and gaze —
He shakes himself to find out whether
His carcase yet sticks all together ;
His gaze, too, is a gaze of wonder.
At all the havoc, smoke, and thunder ;
Thought he — '' Tho' I have heard oh shore
Of Bullets' whiz, and Cannons' roar.
So piercing, spiteful, shrill a hiss
I ne'er supposed they had as this ! "
Meanwhile they whistle closely past
His nose and ears, amazing fast —

THE FIGHT 195

Upon the deck before his eyes

A soldier knocked to pieces lies.

And as he turns round in the smother^

Against him wounded reels another ;

He ne'er saw human blood before.

And it affected him the more —

But soon with orders to the Waist,

The Captain coolly bade him haste.

And there the Officers desire

A little to depress their Fire —

Not e'en in fancy, John had seen

Such sight as he saw then, we ween ;

The Seamen toiling 'midst the clatter ;

The carnage flowing like bilge water ;

The Heat, the Noise, the Smoak, the Smell

Of Sulphur, much resembled Hell ;

The Wounded lying shatter'd, jammed.

Writhing and howling like the Damned ;

The tout ensemble of the fuss.

Reminded him of Tartarus.

The third Lieutenant next he found

Quite deafened by th' incessant sound.

So to John's mouth he clapped his ear

What he had got to say, to hear ;

And as he stooped a wicked shot

Sent the Lieutenant's skull to pot.

Whose brains dislodged thus from their case.

Flew smoaking hot in Johnny's face ;

And those who witnessed the disaster,

Remark'd quite drily — ^' tight work. Master ! " —

He looked about in rueful puzzle.

And mopped the plaister from his muzzle,

Till Shaughnessy observed him stare.

And guessed that he might orders bear —

Disburden'd of his missive load.

He turned back by a clearer road ;

For on the Forecastle he skipped.

And aft along the gangway tripped —

When he regained the Quarter-Deck,

More dire had grown the strife and wreck ;

196 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

For splinters flew and spurs were falHng
And every other man was sprawling. —

The Enemy, it since appears,
Had near an hundred Musqaeteers
Beside his usual crew, and these
Poured in their small shot thick as peas. —
John missed his Captain — by ill luck
A splinter 'gainst his knee had struck —
He rested on the weather side
Abreast the wheel, on a Gun-slide,
Serenely viewed the hurly-burly.
And gave his orders not in surly.
But c»lm, and even cheerful tone.
As if he felt no broken bone —
John found him, and reported what
Had been the third Lieutenant's lot —
The Captain bade him near remain.
Until he wanted him again ;
But scarcely was the sentence said.
Ere John was knocked heels over head I
In half a second up he jumped.
And first one leg, then t' other stumped
Upon the deck — ^then stretched each arm —
To find out where he'd got the harm —
'Twas either splinters, or the wind
Of bullet passing him behind
Which knocked him down ; but in his fiill
His side received a Musquet ball,
A flesh wound only — but the part
Began to bleed apace, and smart.
And when the blood began to trickle.
Thought John — " I'm in a pretty pickle !
It may be mortal — and if so,
I'll have a slap before I go ! "

With that he snatch'd in anger keen
A musquet from a dead Marine. —
— *^ Before now I've knocked down a Partridge !
And if I can but find a cartridge.

»*

THE FIGHT 197

I'll pepper yonder tatterdemalions —
Here's one — Have at ye ! ye rascalions !
With pouch and firelock in his hand.
He by the gangway took his standi
And might and main began to bellows
In a blue fiiry at the Fellows ;
While Shaughnessy, who stood below.
At every shot exclaimed, ^' Bravo ! " —

The French mainstay being cut at last,
Down staggering came the batter'd mast !
The Mizzen, too, to see it fall so.
Took huff, and therefore tumbled also —
" Well done, by Jasus I " — bellowed Pat,
" Newcome, 'twas you knocked down all that ! "-

Our Frigate forged a head, and now
Lay right athwart the Frenchman's bow,
Who after a few broadsides more.
Was glad to give the business o'er. —

Along her bowsinit in procession
The English marched and took possession ;
And John ran too, with eager eyes
Among them, to explore the Prize. —

Her riven deck was sheeted o'er
Completely with a flood of gore ;
And every comer shew'd remains
Of legs, and arms, and hair, and brains ;
Nay, many by the Masts were crushed.
Whose blood in all directions gushed.
As when a man hath happed to place
His foot on one o* th' Beetle race ! —

Captain Jack Mitford, R.N.
(Adventures of Johnny Newcome in the Navy)

THE STORY OF JONAH. POEMS
OF MERMAIDS AND OF THE
SEA SPIRITS

THE STORY OF JONAH

Jonah rose up to flee unto Tarshish from the presence of
the Lord^ and went down to Joppa ; and he found a ship
going to Tarshish : so he paid the fare thereof^ and went
down into it^ to go with them unto Tarshish from the
presence of the Lord.

But the Lord sent out a great wind into the sea^ and
there was a mighty tempest in the sea^ so that the ship
was like to be broken.

Then the mariners were afraid^ and cried every man
unto his god^ and cast forth the wares that mere in the
ship into the sea to lighten it of them. But Jonah was
gone down into the sides of the ship ; and he lay, and
was fast asleep.

So the shipmaster came to him^ and said unto him^ '^ What
meanest thou^ O sleeper ? Arise^ call upon thy God^ if
so be that God will think upon us, that we perish not."

And they said every one to his fellow^ '^ Come^ and let us
cast lots^ that we may know for whose cause this evil is
upon us ; what is thine occupation ? and whence comest
thou ? what is thy country ? and of what people art thou ? "

And he said unto them^ " I am an Hebrew ; and I fear
the Lord, the God of Heaven, which hath made the sea
and the dry land."

Then were the men exceedingly afraid, and said unto

106

CAPTAIN GLEN 199

him, '' Why hast thou done this ? " For the men knew that
he fled from the presence of the Lord, because he had
told them.

Then said they unto him, ^' What shall we do unto thee,
that the sea may be calm unto us ? " for the sea wrought,
and was tempestuous.

And he said unto them, *^ Take me up, and cast me forth
into the sea ; so shall the sea be calm unto you : for I know
that for my sake the great tempest is upon you."

Nevertheless the men rowed hard to bring it to the
land ; but they could not : for the sea wrought, and was
tempestuous against them.

Wherefore they cried unto the Lord, and said, ''We
befeech Thee, O Lord, we beseech Thee, let us not perish
for this man's life, and lay not upon us innocent blood :
for thou, O Lord, hast done as it pleased thee."

So they took up Jonah, and cast him forth into the sea ;
and the sea ceased from her raging.

Then the men feared the Lord exceedingly, and offered
a sacrifice unto the Lord, and made vows.

Now the Lord had prepared a great fish to swallow up
Jonah. And Jonah was in the belly of the fish three days
and three nights.

CAPTAIN GLEN

There was a ship, and a ship of fame,
Launch'd off the stocks, bound to the main.
With a hundred and fifky brisk young men.
Was picked and chosen every one.

William Glen was their captain's name.
He was a brisk and a tall young man.
As bold a sailor as went to sea.
And he was bound for New Barbary.

The first of April we did set sail.
Blest with a pleasant prosperous gale ;
And we were bound to New Barbary,
With all our whole ship's company.

200 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

We had not sailed a league or two,
Till all our whole ship's jovial crew^
They all fell sick but sixty-three^
As we went to New Barbary.

One night the captain he did dream^
There came a voice which said to him^
^' Prepare^ you and your company^
To*morrow night you must lodge with me.'

This waked the captain in a fright.
It being the third watch of the night.
Then for his boatswain he did call,
And told to him his secrets all.

When I in England did remain,
The Holy Sabbath I did profane.
In drunkenness I took delight,
Which does my trembling soul afiright

There's one thing more I do rehearse.
Which I shall mention in this verse,
A squire I slew in Staffordshire,
All for the love of a lady fair.

*' Now 'tis the ghost, I am afraid.
That hath in me such terror bred ;
Although the King hath pardoned me,
He's daily in my company."

^' O, worthy captain, since 'tis so.
No mortal of it e'er shall know ;
So keep this secret in your breast.
And pray to God to give you rest."

We had not sailed a league but three.
Till raging grew the roaring sea :
There rose a tempest in the skies.
Which filled our hearts with sad surmise.

CAPTAIN GLEN 201

Our mainmast sjming by break of day.
Which made our rigging all give way.
And did our seamen sore affi^ht.
The teirors of that fiatal night.

Up then spoke our foremast man^
As he did by the foreyard stand ;
He cried, " The Lord receive my soul,"
So to the bottom he did fall.

The sea did wash both fore and aft.
Till scarce one sail was left aloft ;
Our yards were sprung, our rigging tore.
The like you never saw before.

The boatswain straitly did declare
The captain was a murderer.
Which so enraged the whole ship's crew.
The captain overboard they threw.

Our treacherous captain being gone.
Immediately there was a calm ;
The winds did calm, and the raging sea.
As we went to New Barbary.

Now, when we came to the Spanish shore.
Our goodly ship for to repair.
The people all were amazed to see
Our dismal case and misery.

So when our ship was in repair.
To England then our ship did steer ;
And when we came to London town.
Our dismal case we then made known.

For many wives their husbands lost.
Whom they lamented to their cost ;
Which caused them to mourn bitterly.
These tidings from New Barbary.

202 A SAILOR'S GARLAND

A hundred and fifty brisk young men^
Did to our goodly ship belong ;
Of all our whole ship's company
There now remained but sixty-three.

Now, seamen all, where'er you be,
I pray a warning take by me.
As you love your life, still have a care
You never sail with a murderer.

O, never more do I intend
For to cross o'er the raging main.
But live in peace in my own country.
And so I end my tragedy.

BROWN ROBYN'S CONFESSION

It fell upon a Wodensday

Brown Robyn's men went to sea,

But they saw neither moon nor sun.
Nor starlight wi' their ee.

" We'll cast Kevels us among.

See who the unhappy man may be ; "
The Kevel fell on Brown Robyn

The master-man was he.

'' It is nae wonder," said Brown Rob3m,

** Altho' I dinna thrive.
For with my mither I had twa bairns

And with my sister five.

" But tie me to a plank o' wood.

And throw me in the sea ;
And if I sink, ye may bid me sink.

But if I swim, just let me be."

WILLIAM GRISMOND'S DOWNFALL 203

They've tied him to a plank of wood^

And thrown him in the sea ;
He didna sink^ though they bade him sink :

He swimd^ and they bade let him be.

He hadna been into the sea

An hour but barely three.
Till by it came Our Blessed Lady

Her dear young Son her wi',

'^ Will ye gang to your men again.

Or will ye gang wi' me ?
Will ye gang to the high heavens,

Wi my dear Son and me ? "

*^ I winna gang to my men again.

For they would be feared at me ;
But I would gang to the high heavens.

With thy dear Son and thee/'

'* Its for nae honour ye did to me. Brown Robjnri,

Its for nae good ye did to mee ;
But a' is for your fair confession

You've made upon the sea."

FROM WILLIAM GRISMOND'S DOWN

FALL

(1650)

There in the broom I killed her.

With my accursed knife.
There hateftilly I killed her.

Who loved me as her life ;
I cut her throat, I killed her.

Who should have been my wife.
And for mine offence I must die.

204 A SAILORS GARLAND

Three days she lay there murdered^
Before that she was founds

Bat then the neighbours searching
Within that broomy ground,

Did find her there uncovered,
And with a bloody wound.